


Gay Stallions of the Cimmaron

by IrisClou



Series: Quiet Desperation [12]
Category: Rockman | Mega Man Classic
Genre: Centaur AU, Centaurs, M/M, i cant even write it off as a good kush hallucination, i have absolutely no excuse for this, so it gets its own story, yeah thats ... thats it folks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisClou/pseuds/IrisClou
Summary: i dunno man i saw some awesome centaur art and i was like I WANT THAT FOR SHADOWBLUES BC I LOVE HORSES.So here we are.written once again as a shadowblues RP between me and my gf yiffachu on tumblr!One night, a dusty bay mustang threatens the safety of Shadow's stables.But Blues has something Shadow can only dream of: Freedom.What possible compromise can a feral and a purebred make?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so honestly idk the total lore of the centaurs and how theyre kept on ranches/stables/etc by humans when theyre clearly bigger and stronger, but I figure it has something to do with equine prey mentality and a long history of slavery turned servitude.  
> also writing centaurs is hard and im inclined to write them as full on horses but then they cant be as gay bc they cant hold hands or kiss

The ground was crisp beneath Shadow’s hooves, the fresh frost lacing each winter-dulled blade of grass in the paddock.

The ebony stallion blew softly, his breath a shimmering mist in the fading moonlight as he slowed his walk to a halt, gazing out over his master’s land, chest raised proudly. Piercing storm blue eyes scanned the pastures for any unfamiliar presence, sable ears pricked.

Silence, save for the crickets and the whispering crescendo of the dawn chorus.

He lifted a foreleg, poised. A quiet snort as the only sound that caught his attention was the strong beating of his own heart.

Satisfied by this, Shadow relaxed, and set his hoof down, shaking out his feathered tail as he padded on his way. With a hushed sigh, he pulled his thick hanten closer for warmth.

The stallion began a brisk trot along the paddock fences, his swaying hindquarters betraying the precise hoofbeats. He could see the horizon was about to be struck with the branding iron that was the sun, the first flickering rays of dawn breaking apart the winter fog.

His heart throbbed as he eyed the vast pastures, his ears twinged with their incessant calling to him. How he longed to throw himself to the wilds, to buck and kick and gallop carelessly, as the yearlings did.  

The urge was strong, the yearning, pulling desire to just--

The gates of the paddock neared, and Shadow’s muscles bunched with excitement, his powerful thighs tensed, haunches down, chest forward, arms clenched--

With a prideful whinny in his throat, he reared, and set to the ground with a thundering gallop, his withers and hindquarters rolling like ocean waves as he raced the dawn, the diamond dust wind spurring him on.

Like a soaring raven, he was nothing but a dark streak along the worn dirt paths, ears switched back as he traced along the edges of his territory, his black tail streaming behind him.

But his footsteps grew unsteady as he sensed something unfamiliar nearby.

There was a second gallop.

In a flash, Shadow swerved around, midnight eyes scouring the dusky hues of the grassy expanse that lay before him.

He knew where his duties resided--guarding the mares when he wasn’t on mission for his Master.

The fresian’s horseshoes carved deep crescents into the hard ground as he pressed onward at full gallop towards the paddock, towards the stables. His right hand gripped the katana at his side.

With an exasperated huff, he reached the paddock, and circled it warily, tail held high and waving in warning as he trotted jauntily.

Shadow’s second round let him face to face with another stallion, a scruffy looking bay with auburn hair and chestnut stockings. His hooves were dull and cracked. Never shod.  

In an instant, the fresian’s katana was drawn.

“Mustang!” He barked, and pounced mightily to put the length of himself between the stallion and the stables. “Leave now, for these mares are under strict guard. You vermin are not welcome here!”

The dun took a step back, bushy brows furrowed incredulously. An annoyed grin spread across his face.

“You’re the loudest welcoming committee I’ve had yet, bud. And trust me, mares are the last thing on my list of things I want.”

Shadow’s ears lay flat, and his entire body bristled, the starry silver spots on his flanks shimmering with his coat. He resisted the primal instinct to bare his teeth.

“Hey, how ‘bout I make a deal with you, Purebred?” The mustang drawled, beginning a slow, lazy circling of the friesian. “You show me where y’all keep your oats, and I won’t touch a single hair on your precious mares’ coats.”

He blinked, perking up a foreleg.

“Ooh, the rhymed now, din’it?”

Shadow scowled with disgust at the intruder’s dialect, and shuffled his hooves to always be facing him.

“You will leave this instant, or I will remove you by force.”

The mustang quirked a brow, and continued his circling, making sure to sway his hips sassily as he did so, a snort catching in his throat as he noticed Shadow’s gaze followed briefly.

“You sure about that, Purebred? Because you didn’t even see me sneak in. What makes you think you’ll be able to kick me back out?” A snarky, toothy grin split his lips as he motioned with his head to the stable gates that were now behind him, “Especially now that you so kindly led me to your front door.”

Shadow stiffened, eyes wide with alarm as he realized by facing the mustang as he circled, they had now switched positions.

“Listen, Bud. I just want some food. I can tell you’ve got at least six crops up your ass just by the way you hold yourself. Let’s make that deal, and I’ll throw in leaving your dignity intact as a free bonus. Won’t tell a soul you got fooled by a dirty ol’ bay, hmm?”

The friesian shook out his hindquarters in a frustrated snort, head held high and to the side as he eyed the stray stallion.

“...” Shadow grumbled to himself. “...Come with me. One wrong step, and I’ll have you cut into ribbons.” As much as it went against his duties, he could not risk something so dishonorable as being tricked by such a low life. Best to just give him some scraps and send him off.

He hid a cold smile to himself.

Besides, if he ever caught wind of him again, he had explicit permission to kill him, as his Master saw mustangs as nothing but a pestilence.

As the bay trotted beside him, Shadow noticed something.

Though he looked strong, there was a disguised weakness in the boastful steps. Bony ribs jutted out under a lustless coat, and his tail was tangled and nearly matted.

The friesian suddenly felt no malice. As much as he despised mustangs, they were still centaurs. As was he. His kind suffered enough, and he wished to see no more of it.

His proud shoulders fell, and he silently lead the way to the grain storage.

Shadow would make sure the mustang had more than enough. He hoped he’d never have to see such frailty hidden behind an obvious façade of confidence again.

“...What brings you here? The last herd of your kind moved on from this territory years ago. Do you have a new herd?” The stallion murmured softly, a strange gentleness in his voice as he eyed the mustang. “Were you given a name?”

He winced as he heard the male’s belly growl loudly.

“Eat now, talk later, bud. I haven’t had a full meal in days.”

Shadow nodded, and opened the door to the feed stores.

 


	2. oh shit i forgot i have to make chapter titles again goddamn it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> youre a fuckin prick, blues, but so is shadow

Blues didn't hesitate to show himself inside, gazing around at the stockpile of food.   
  
It always worked out on his end - these other centaurs just couldn't stand up for themselves and chase him off, always giving in even if they tried to warn him off. Either they were too dumb and fell for a stranger's smooth talk, or too smart and knew they wouldn't get anywhere trying to argue with him.   
  
He was surprised this stallion had given up so quickly, seeing as he was more than ready to give him an impromptu amputation a few moments ago. But, he wasn't complaining. After all, he got what he wanted.   
  
The mustang let out a long, low whistle as he perused the supply.   
  
"Don't mind if I do," he said as he stepped up to an unopened sack of feed, promptly tearing the top open.   
  
Shadow flattened his ears.   
  
He had figured the mustang would've gone for food that was already opened, but instead, he had the gall to help himself to an unopened bag.   
  
At this point, he was just rubbing it in that he had tricked him.   
  
But Blues didn't immediately dig in.   
  
He needed to pace himself, lest he ended up sick. It really had been a while since his last meal.   
  
Reaching within his poncho, the stallion pulled out a sack, one he carried with him to store food, and began filling it with the feed.   
  
It was basically torture to make himself wait, the sharp pangs in his stomach at the scent of food was proof of that, but he didn't want to look _too_ desperate in front of the sharp eyes of the black stallion. He'd gone for far longer without a proper meal, anyway. He could wait a few moments longer.   
  
"Since you've given me what I want," Blues began as he gave his sack of food a little shake before setting it down to tie it closed, "I'll answer your question."   
  
Still standing silently to the side, Shadow said nothing further to let the wild stallion know he was listening.   
  
"No, I don't belong to a herd. Never have, never will."   
  
Shadow snorted lightly.   
  
"That's dangerous."   
  
Still, he had to give this male credit for surviving on his own.   
  
"Never said it wasn't." Blues just shrugged, more than ready to start filling his stomach.    
  
Shadow watched him, unable to ignore the glimpses he got of his ribs under the poncho and along his hide.   
  
It was pathetic. Pitiful, even.   
  
But somehow Shadow could sense that this mustang did not want anyone's pity. He still had his pride. Not that he necessarily cared about the mustang's wellbeing - if he dropped dead the next week, at least he wouldn't be around to see it.   
  
"Tell me, Purebred," Shadow snapped out of his thoughts when the other continued on. "Why do you stay here? You could jump that fence and run off whenever you wanted to, you know."    
  
And Blues knew all too well that the other stallion was aware of that, hiding a smirk to himself as he slowly got under the centaur's skin, picking him apart little by little. They were always so predictable, and he _loved_ riling them up, these slaves of the humans.   
  
They always had a desire to taste the freedom that was part of his every day, whether they admitted it or not.   
  
Blues narrowed his eyes as he studied the fresian, looking him up and down as he questioned him while scooping some grain into his mouth, to the black centaur's disdain.    
  
"Trust me, looking after only yourself is so much easier than having to hang around here and follow the humans' every command like some pathetic _dog_ who doesn't know any better."   
  
Shadow reared and stomped his front hooves down, commanding silence with the thundering noise.   
  
"Watch your tongue, pest...! I won't have you speaking to me like that while you are at my mercy!"   
  
Blues snorted and rolled his eyes.   
  
"Oh, please. Take your fake sense of superiority to someone who cares. In the end, you are under the humans, no matter how responsible your little guard duty makes you feel."   
  
"I can and will kill you, mustang," Shadow growled, eyes burning at the cocky stray.   
  
"Funny thing is," Blues crammed some more food into his mouth before trotting over to the black stallion, tail raised.   
  
"You won't." With a toss of his tail, Blues trotted out the storage shed, sack in hand.   
  
Shadow suppressed a hot snort, lashing his tail as if at flies. He was quick to follow the stranger out, right on his tail if he decided to cause anymore trouble.   
  
"You must like one of those mares if you're so content with staying here," Blues spoke as he made his way along the path away from the fields, the chirping of crickets accompanying his and the other stallion's hoofbeats.


	3. Stallion's Pride

“ENOUGH!” Unbeknownst to the mustang, his words had struck too deep a nerve for Shadow to hold back any longer. With a wild-eyed whinny, the friesian mock charged, halting just inches from the now slightly spooked mustang. He quickly slicked back his guard hairs, however, recovering with a cool smile.

“Or is it you can't be with one? Somethin’ wrong with the equipment in back?” The bay grinned wolfishly, and pranced around to see if he could catch a glimpse between the black stallion’s legs.

Shadow swiftly leapt to the side, keeping his front to the mustang, his hind legs stepping gingerly. He narrowed his eyes and blew hotly.

“Or maybe…” The bay’s ruddy face was almost all teeth now with how easily this pureblood was getting flustered, “You’re a stud-dud.”

The derogatory term for homosexuality in stallions shattered the peace of the early dawn.

The mustang had no time to react, and his eyes barely had the time to widen as a shadow crossed his face. There was an ungodly snarling noise, and he felt a great weight on his back, before a sharp pain struck his side.

The friesian had reared up, and mightily slammed down his knees onto the bay’s withers, before kicking off of his ribs, one cracking under the force.

“Next will be my blade, and this your last breath! Be gone, for you are not fit for even the _dogs_ to eat!” Shadow bellowed, katana drawn as he towered menacingly over the wounded mustang.

The pain in his side overcame the pain in the bay’s belly, and he shied away. Even as he limped badly, he did not turn tail and run.

“You’ll regret that.” He hissed, trying to keep the strain off his left shoulder.

“You won’t live long enough to get your revenge, mustang.” Shadow snorted, ears perked, chest puffed with pride. “Leave, before I make an example of your carcass for the rest of your foul, lowlife kind to see.”

The bay glared balefully up at the stallion, ears pinned back and spat at his hooves.

“I may not have a purpose like you do, but you can’t even fulfil yours. I’ll at least enjoy my low life while you suffer your half life, Purebred.”

And with that, the mustang slunk off, his gait lopsided from injury.

Shadow snorted disdainfully, and shook out his hair, trotting a little from side to side.

He had plenty purpose, plenty he had fulfilled. The mares were simply his guard, nothing more. Stock for him to protect.

The stallion sneezed, and limbered up before prancing back into the paddock, making sure to lock the storage door they had left. He hoped that mustang came back sooner than later so he could finish the job.

Shadow trotted a few more laps around the paddock out of habit, then slowed to a stop as his ears caught the sound of the stable gates opening. He watched with a stern serenity as the mares padded softly out, accompanied by his Master’s steward.

The friesian blew gently, a warm greeting to the females as they passed by him, their tails swishing gently. He counted each one silently, eyes wandering over their delicate, but strong features to ensure their health.

“Shadow.”

It was Shade, the steward.

Trained excitement pricked the stallion’s ears, and he perked up his tail as he made his way to the man.

“I see you’ve chased off an intruder.” His tone was always difficult to decipher, but Shadow was quick to please. The man furrowed sharp brows as he saw the scattered hoofprints in the frozen ground.

“Yes, sir. A bay mustang.” The stallion could barely contain his pride. Granted, the mustang had been barely more than fifteen hands high, and Shadow loomed at seventeen hands, but ferals like that one were sturdier than they looked. A stallion was a stallion, regardless of size or shape.

“You’ve cut him, I see.” Shade looked down his hooked nose at the bloodstains on Shadow’s silver-black hooves. “Good work. Come, your shift is over, let me reward you now.” His voice, though seemingly cold, held a promise Shadow could not resist. The friesian eagerly followed the man inside.

\--

Blues flopped down beside some bushes to nurse his wound, his sides heaving from the pain. The actual cut was not very deep, but the force he was struck with had broken a rib and had begun to swell.

He dropped the bag of feed beside him, and dug around in his poncho pockets for some salve when he saw something bright roll out of the feed sack.

An apple!

Pain forgotten for an instant, Blues snatched it up, before realizing the bag had been stuffed with quite a few. Eyes wide, swallowing thickly as his mouth watered, the bay pulled open the sack. Oats! The bastard had given him oats, and mashed bran too.

Then--

Licorice root, and aloe. The mustang cocked his head. These were used to ease inflammations and pain. Had the friesian... _planned_ to hurt him? All the while knowingly sending him off with the remedy?

Grunting, he shook his forelock out of his eyes. The stallion could have easily broken his spine, but chose not to. Was it an act of mercy, or a warning?

Paranoia usually won most mental battles, and this time was no different. It had been a warning.

Despite his hunger, Blues paced himself. The last thing he wanted was to die of apple-induced colic. He still couldn't believe all of the food he’d missed seeing the friesian stuff in his bag. As if he had gone out of his way to give him things specifically to fatten him up.

After patching himself up best he could and chewing on the licorice root, he dug into the sack, eating slowly, but as much as he could.

The sun was high in the cold sky as Blues nodded off beside an old tree, belly full.

His peace was brutally shattered as the sound of thundering hooves rattled his teeth.

With a startled whinny, he scrambled to his feet, food bag clutched tightly in his fist.

Something was hurtling towards him at a breakneck speed. Something absolutely massive and with a charcoal brown coat. His skin was ruddy and dark, and his tail and mane were streaked with bright violet.

A shire! A stallion, by the size of it, too. His enormous hooves were blanketed in endless...lavender?! Feathers.

Blues snorted. What sort of disaster was this thing? Did it fall into paint?

The shire raced past the bay, before skidding to a clumsy halt, having realized he nearly trampled him.

He about-faced, and hackneyed on up to the mustang.

“Hey! Are you a mustang?” Despite his size, the male was still quite young. Just shy of a colt, even. But by the smell of it, definitely a stallion. “I thought they’d be bigger.”

“Well, seeing as you’re about fifty hands high, not much stands a chance now, does it?” Blues attempted to sound calm, but his shaking hocks said otherwise.

 _Damn!_ This centaur was built. His torso was toned, and his arms burly, though his hips and belly still had signs of foal-fat on them.

“Naw, only eighteen-and-a-half.” The shire huffed. Blues’ gaze just now reached the top of the boy’s head, which was shaved into a loose, fluffy fauxhawk, and the same ridiculous color as his tail, though much more vivid.

He turned his face to see a dust cloud growing in the distance, followed by the faint rumble of hoofbeats.

“Shit, they’re gonna try and catch me again, but I _hate_ that place. They want me to be trained as a warhorse, but I wanna be a _mustang!”_ The smokey shire whooped loudly, and reared up, pawing at the sky.

It took every last ounce of muscle control for Blues not to lose his bowels in fear as his life flashed before his eyes.

“You could probably be anything you wanted, bud. You’re big enough, that’s for sure. Just...watch the hooves.”

“Oh. Sorry.” The colt frowned momentarily, before his tail waved with excitement. “Hey! Let’s run off together, and make our OWN herd. I don’t wanna go back to the stables. The stablehand is really creepy, and I _know_ he whips some of the other stallions when they think we’re not looking.”

Blues swallowed nervously.

“...Bud, I may not be into mares, but that’s not how herd making _works._ ” He peeked over the shire’s withers, which were almost shoulder height to him. Whoever was after this colt was hellbent on it, and he could hear their shouts now.

“Yeah, well, that’s not important. Herds don't have to have girls, anyway. They’re boring.” The boy had begun to get ansty, and was stomping all over the place, shaking the ground.

“Equus’ dick, dude, chill. Your friends over there--”

“They're NOT my friends, they’re--”

“THEY are going to KILL me. So go be a mustang somewhere else.”

“No! There’s no other mustangs around here for miles and miles. You’re gonna show me how to be wild, like how centaurs used to be!”

Blues was caught between wanting to argue, as doing such was his nature, and just hauling ass out before he got flattened by a bunch of pissed off stallions.

He didn’t have to decide, however, as the shire hooked a thick arm around his waist, and took off at a full gallop.

The bay had no choice but to try and keep up, lest he break a leg and end his miserable life then and there.

By the time they had slowed to a loping canter, then trot, Blues had nearly keeled over.

“You tired already? Hey, there’s an old barn out this way. You can rest in there, and tell me some stories!”

“For fuck’s...sake....” The bay wheezed. But the wrangling group was nowhere to be seen. Lost, hopefully.

The barn was no stranger to Blues, who had used it as a sort of base for a while now. He collapsed into a heap of hay, catching his breath.

“No stories, kid. Not now.” He panted.

“Then at least tell me where you’re from. Shadow said all the herds ran away a long time ago from around here. But _I_ heard he chased off a mustang this morning.” The shire plopped down with an ungraceful thud beside the bay. “My name’s Bass, by the way. What’s yours? Did you name yourself?”


	4. Burrs in the Coat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> theres a faint whiff of,.../plot/ in the air tonight

This was certainly shaping up to be the most...exciting day of his life. Between the cracked rib and now the giant kid who had forced him to run away with him, Blues couldn't recall the last time he had so much action in one day.  
  
"He didn't chase me off," Blues snapped, ears swiveling with agitation. "I was already leaving."  
  
The young stallion's eyes suddenly lit up with realization.  
  
"You're the--!"  
  
"No shit," the glare the bay shot him shut him up. "I'm the only mustang around here, who _else_ could he have been talking about?"  
  
The dark shire was only even more excited than before.  
  
"So what's your name then? You can't not tell me after I told you mine!"  
  
"Keep it down, would you. The entire world doesn't need to hear you." Blues scolded the other, satisfied when he dipped his head meekly as apology.  
  
He was certain the search party was long gone, but he wasn't about to risk it. Some humans were more intent on keeping their stock than others.  
  
It was one thing if those other stallions found the kid. They'd just take him back, and probably put some strong locks on his stable gate. Maybe keep a few extra guards around.  
  
If they found _him_ , well, this would be his last conversation, to say the least.  
  
He was spared of any further gruesome thoughts when he noticed his company leaning towards him, practically waiting with baited breath for him to answer.  
  
Blues sighed.  
  
"It's Blues, alright? Now no more questions, 'cause I'm not giving you anymore answers."  
  
It'd been a while since he said his name aloud, since he told someone else what it was. At least now someone could put a name to his sorry ass carcass if ever the day came.  
  
"That's a great name! No wonder you chose it." Bass was beaming, showing off sharp canines that he must've gotten not too long ago.  
  
"I didn't--" Blues tugged his poncho closer to his arms and tried to begin to explain that he hadn't chosen his own name, but Bass didn't seem to notice, and continued to talk.  
  
"I wish I had gotten to choose mine. But now that I think about it, Bass isn't such a bad name after all."  
  
Blues merely grunted in response, adjusting himself to get more comfortable if at all possible.   
  
The short silence between them was interrupted when Bass' belly gurgled.  
  
"I'm hungry," he pointed out as if that hadn't been made clear. "Everyone's usually getting their breakfast by now."  
  
Blues rolled his eyes.  
  
If this kid wanted to be a mustang so bad, he'd need to get used to skipping a few meals.  
  
Still, he gave in and tossed his feed bag to him, if only to get him to be quiet for a while.  
  
Bass licked his lips and promptly dug in, happy to eat.  
  
Well, there went a full serving. Blues watched him wolf down enough food to leave him with only another serving left. And between the two of them, Bass certainly didn't need it.  
  
Now he'd have to make another heist much sooner than he had planned.  
  
Then again, with the young stallion's size, getting feed out of the nearby stables wouldn't be as difficult.  
  
Bass would make a perfect distraction - and a dangerous one at that, given how unaware he had been with his own hooves earlier. And while everyone would be preoccupied with him, he himself could slip in behind their backs and snag as much food as he wanted.  
  
Blues knew he was getting ahead of himself.  
  
Of course, the best scenario would be for him to ditch the kid completely. But until his injury was in better condition, that wasn't happening anytime soon. And he begrudgingly accepted that.

\----

Much to Blues’ absolute displeasure, Bass decided to collapse in a leggy, muscular heap beside him, looking a bit snoozy from chowing down on the overly rich food.

“So you know Shadow? We’re like, cousins, or somethin’, I think.” The shire drawled, leaning into the bay, who scowled deeply as foal fat pressed into the side of his face. “My mom’s a gypsy vanner, though. That’s why I got all my feathers.” He wiggled his hooves for effect.

“A purple one?” Blues snarled, and dug his fingers into the soft hips of the boy, pushing him away. “And no, I don’t.”

“Nah, mama was a pinto, and papa was dark bay. I dyed all my hair myself!” Bass puffed up his chest, brimming with pride. “...Though it didn’t turn out so good on my feathers…”

Blues made a passing remark about how he’d surely be purpler his next time around, before realizing what the colt had said earlier.

His COUSIN? Ah, hell. That meant he must be from the same stable. Which meant ol’ bristle-britches would be after his ass.

Groaning inwardly, the bay decided to deal with it for the time being. Maybe if the shire was on good terms with that prick, he could bribe himself into another stash of food. As much as Blues would have loved to have Bass as some sort of hostage in exchange for a lifetime supply of oats, the shire wasn’t some falabella filly.  

Didn’t snore like one either.

The colt, belly full of mash, had flopped over entirely, curling up his massive body like a foal. Yet again, to Blues’ endless disdain, Bass had laid his head at his breast, drooling a little on his forearms.

At the very least, the colt was terribly warm, and the bay figured having him around would heat the barn in no time. So much for his dreams of freezing to death, he chuckled to himself.

Blues did as much as he could to make himself comfortable for a while, seeing as his rib wouldn’t heal overnight. Tugging his poncho closer, he leaned forward and crossed his arms, bowing his head.

He quickly nodded off, exhaustion having taken a heavy toll on his nerves.

\--

He awoke to Bass shifting, and ultimately falling off of the bay’s knees and onto the floor with a dull thud.

Rubbing his eyes, he realized they had both slept past sunset. Well, Blues had. From the looks of it, Bass had wandered off a couple times, before returning, having collected some winter turnips and other root vegetables. It wasn’t much, but the kid at least had gotten the idea of foraging.

It took him a while, but the mustang managed to get back up to his hooves, his muscles sore and stiff from having slept the entire day away. He yawned and stretched. Not that he minded, seeing as winter days weren’t that interesting anyway.

Blues’ rib still ached, but the rest had done him some good. Smacking dry lips, he shuffled out to find a trough that hadn’t frozen over yet.

To think, humans kept his kind as little more than pets, slaves...an exotic commodity for the wealthy. And how his kind had come to cease resisting it. How they had grown docile and dumb under this psychological conditioning.

He grunted, dipping his palms into the icy waters in an old wooden trough. Treat them like livestock, and livestock they become.

The bay drank deeply, until he felt nausea rise in his belly, urging him to stop. His hands rose up from the water for one last drink, when another face appeared in the liquid’s dark reflection.

“Mustang.”

The voice sent shivers up Blues’ flanks, and yet it was calm. He slowly looked up.

The friesian.

“Mustang, I know you’re not stupid enough to have taken our colt now, have you?” The black centaur’s hair was no longer in a tight bun atop his head, but in a relaxed ponytail that flowed down his shoulders like ravensilk. He pawed lightly at the ground.  

“No, and I’m certainly not the idiot who _lost_ a two thousand pound baby, either. How’d you manage _THAT_ , Purebred?” Blues hissed, the sight of the stallion making his side hurt. Just his damn luck.

“Bass is…” Shadow frowned pensively, “...Unique. Our master feels he will become the sire to a perfected breed, but...the foal has other plans.” He shifted his weight idly, and swished his tail. “Master spent many, many years to breed a colt as powerful as Bass, therefore he’s quite literally worth his weight in gold.”

“And I should care…why?” Blues didn’t like how relaxed this stallion was looking. Too calm. Too casual.

“You’re going to bring him back to us. Promise to get those stupid notions of wild centaurs out of his head, and you’ll be rewarded richly for it.” Shadow pranced cooly over to the bay, who flinched. “Master has taken an interest to you. Says you may have information he wants.”


	5. Hesitance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POUR MORE CORNSTARCH IN THAT PLOT BITCH

Blues resisted the urge to bare his teeth. He snorted hotly, and backtrotted gingerly, muscles tensed.

“You won’t convince me, Purebred. I’d rather starve to death, than be some pawn for human affairs.” He shook his head, ears slicked back, tail switching. “Take the kid if you want, but leave me the fuck alone.”

Shadow blew gently, storm eyes soft.

“Walk with me, mustang. I brought you something.” From the folds of his flowery yukata, the stallion withdrew a thick and plush saddle blanket. “It’s too cold out to only be wearing that.” He motioned to the ratty looking poncho the bay huddled in.

“I’ll get fleas in it, you idiot. And stop trying to feign politeness. I have a nasty limp now because of you, and I _won’t_ forget it.” The bay shied away as Shadow went to drape the blanket on his back, cocking a hind leg to kick if he came close again. “Get away!”

“Stop being foolish, mustang. I won’t hurt you.” The friesian neighed softly, cutting Blues off as he tried to bolt away.

“Why?! Cuz your ape “master” thinks I could be useful?” The bay spat, lips curled.

“No.” Shadow nickered, a sound Blues hadn’t heard since he was a foal. “Because this is your territory, and you are no threat to my master’s mares now. Come here.”

Stunned by the sudden gentleness, the bay froze just long enough for the stallion to lay the blanket across his back, tying it securely around his waist to keep it in place.

“I don’t _hate_ your kind. But as soon as you step into my territory, you’re a threat. And it’s my duty to destroy any threat to the mares.” Shadow sighed, padding back to look over what had become part mule out of sheer stubbornness.

Yes, the blanket was very warm and very soft, but by Equus, Blues would never admit it.

“Walk with me, Mustang. For I too, did not belong to a herd once.” The friesian whickered, almost to himself. “And if you’ll let me, I brought bandages for your injury. If you let your rib stay unbound like that, it’ll heal displaced, and cause you much more pain than you’re in now.”

Blues pawed at the cold earth, wildly agitated.

“I want to listen to your story. I want to know why there are no herds out here any more.” The naive whinny was nearly lost in the cold wind.

As much as Blues hated to admit it, Shadow sounded earnest. And he wasn’t wrong about the rib thing, either.

“...If you so much as look at me wrong, Purebred, I’ll gouge your eyes out with my dirty hooves.”

“Understood.”

\--

The atmosphere between Shadow and Blues was almost as cold as the winter air. Their breaths billowed out in puffs as they trodded along, their ears swiveling about for anything more interesting than each other’s company.

  
Swishing his tail, Shadow decided to break the silence and looked at Blues, who held his poncho close.  
  
“How are you feeling?” he questioned, glancing at his flank, now covered by the blanket.  
  
“Oh, just peachy keen,” Blues quipped, doing his best to hide the limp in his gait. The last thing he wanted the other stallion to see was him in pain. “No thanks to you.”  
  
Shadow halted, planting his hooves firmly to make his point.  
  
“I’ve told you, you’re a threat to the mares, and to my Master’s breeding stock.”  
  
Blues snorted, annoyed that he was still going on about the mares.  
  
"I don't give a _shit_ about your mares...!"  
  
Shadow cast him a weary look.  
  
"Clearly, seeing as you are so willing to take their food."  
  
“Oh, that is just _rich_.” Blues stiffened, stepping up to the black stallion, his lips curled in a snarl. “You know damn well your Master has more than enough money to spare.”  
  
Keeping a calm demeanor, Shadow stared down at him, knowing that he just wanted to argue. And he wasn’t going to give him what he wanted this time.  
  
“I never said otherwise. But, what is rightfully his, is not yours for the taking.”  
  
Blues seethed even more, wanting so badly to do something to knock some sense into this snot-nosed prick. He was finding it more and more difficult to look at him.  
  
“You’re no different than the humans. You’re so _selfish_.” The bay began to pace, his hooves kicking up smalls clods of dirt as he dug them into the earth, tail lashing. “Your humans came and took this land, and you expect everyone else to just be okay with it…?!” It was no wonder he resented their kind.  
  
The lack of reaction he got out of Shadow only made him more agitated. He really didn’t care, did he?

  
“You really are that stupid, aren’t you?” Blues sneered at him, feeling laughter bubble in his chest. The fact that he hadn’t pieced it together was laughable. Ignorant, selfish, _stupid_. He was waiting to add more choice words to his list of what he thought of the black centaur.  
  
Shadow twitched an ear, unsure.   
  
“Why do you think the wild centaurs left, Purebred?” Blues slowed to a stop, staring Shadow dead in the eye.  
  
He saw the realization dawn in his eyes.  
  
“They were smart. They knew to get the fuck out of here as fast as they could as soon as humans stepped foot on this land. To save themselves the trouble that they would’ve inevitably caused. And you, you _helped_ them.” Blues curled his lips in disgust. “It’s your fault they’re gone.” ~~**ITS TURNING IntO POCAHONTAS**~~  
  
The bay waited. Waited for the friesian to try to make some pathetic excuse. Still too self-centered to admit that he had a hand in it all.  
  
But Shadow didn’t argue.   
  
He was quiet for a while, staring down at the ground. As much as he wanted to, he could not deny that there was some truth to the mustang’s accusation.  
  
When he finally spoke, it was not to cause more grief.  
  
“Why didn’t you leave, too?” his voice was a mere whisper, his dark eyes once more turned to Blues.  
  
“Because--” Blues began sharply, but stopped himself. He turned his head away, sighing hotly. Maybe he should calm down a little, it was obvious Shadow wasn’t going to fight. “...I told you. I was never a part of a herd.”  
  
“How did you…”  
  
“I don’t want to talk about it.” The mustang still didn’t look at him, and he turned to leave. His steps were deliberately slow to let Shadow catch up, and an uncomfortable silence fell between them while the friesian thought.

  
He glanced at the bay, glad that he had calmed from his earlier temper.  
  
“I know I have no right to ask this of you, but I can tell you’ve already made an impression on Bass. He...he doesn’t realize how hard your life is.” Shadow began carefully, walking alongside Blues, relieved to have a quieter moment. “I would be in your debt if you can convince him to return.”  
  
His company scoffed, stubbornly accepting his favor. He wanted him out of his tail hairs more than they wanted him back, for sure.  
  
"I can try, but don't blame me if he's too stupid to listen."  
  
"He wouldn't be the only one around here, if so."  
  
Blues stopped in his tracks to cast the stallion a fiery glare. He was about to take insult to the remark, until he noticed the friesian return his glare with a mischievous smirk, eyes light.  
  
Blues pinned his ears back.  
  
This centaur that worked for the humans was so...weird.  
  
He didn't know what to think about him anymore. One day, he wants to kill him, the next, he acts like he's an old friend.  
  
Just doing his job, he supposed.  
  
The bay blew out a quick snort before continuing on, his hooves plodding through the crisp winter grass.   
  
Well, whatever it was he felt towards him, he needed to make up his mind. Because until he did, Blues was _not_ going to trust him, whether he was acting friendly or not.  
  
Not that it really mattered; he wasn't going to be around much longer if he could help it. He could ransack the nearby stables for only so long, and he wasn't too keen on how quickly this stallion had found his whereabouts. Granted, that was probably all thanks to the kid.

  
"I must return shortly," Shadow spoke up again, his strides matching the mustang's. "If you would allow me, I would like to take care of your rib before I go."  
  
“Fine.”  
  



	6. Friend or Foe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh thats some Gay Shite

“Stop fidgeting, or I’ll wrap it too tight.” Shadow mumbled, frowning as Blues jerked away at every gentle touch of the friesian’s hands. He paused, withdrawing his hands as he leaned over to catch the mustang’s gaze. “...Or does it hurt that badly?”

Blues stared straight ahead, breath shallow, muscles twitching tensely.

“...No.”

The stallion tilted his head slightly.

“...Have you never been touched by another centaur before?” He blew softly, linen still in his hands.

The bay’s face flushed almost instantly, and he stamped his hind hoof harshly, shaking out his tail.

“The _hell_ kinda question is _that?!”_ He whipped his head around, fiery eyes meeting cool ones.

“You weren’t socialized well, were you?” A hushed huff, “No matter, I’ll be as gentle as I can, as long as you stop squirming like a colt.”

Blues simply made an ugly face and folded his arms, his withers shivering and hunching.

Shadow tenderly ran his slender fingers through the scruffy and dusty coat, making sure there were no other broken ribs, save the one.

As carefully as he could, he took his time binding the area once he was sure it was clean. When he was finished, he continued to run his hands across the bay’s hide, frowning. He turned uncertain eyes on Blues.

The mustang was breathing heavier now, ears flopped on either side of his head, eyelids drooping.

Suppressing a snort, Shadow continued his petting, working his way down to the stallion’s rump, before settling in to untangle the rat’s nest that was his tail.

He was alarmed to find the hide covered in small scabs and nicks, probably from fleas and scraps with other centaurs from his past.

“If you come back with me, I can take you to the stable, and wash you. Even your fur is matted.” Shadow piped up quietly.

Blues bristled.

“H-hey! What are you doing back there?! Leave my tail alone!” He cocked a hind leg in warning, ready to kick.

“You’re being more foolish than our colts. Sit still while I untangle this mess. It _must_ hurt.” Shadow chuckled at how foalish the mustang was acting.

The bay had had enough, and tucked his hindquarters in, bolting off towards the barn.

The fresian watched for a moment, before taking off in long, graceful strides. He caught up in no time, and trotted to a halt in front of the barn doors.

“Be grateful I didn’t draw too much blood, or you’d be dead by the morrow. Your coat still has last winter’s shag on it, and you’re covered in fleas. Let me see your ears, fool.” Shadow nickered chidingly, as if he were nagging on one of his stable’s colts. “I’m sure you have a gorgeous color underneath all that dirt, but if you insist on camouflaging yourself to blend in with your own dung--” He began to laugh, a deep, robust sound, but Blues had finally lost his temper.

With a hateful whinny, he reared, and slammed both shoulders into the stallion, trying to knock him off balance.

It was like throwing himself against a brick wall. His wiry muscles met sinewy flesh, and in a split second he was grappled tightly, and his left foreleg was hooked painfully between Shadow’s bent knee, preventing him from moving forward or backward.

“If you were as clever as you say you are, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself into my arms like that, _Mustang_.” Blues entire body shuddered as the friesian whickered into his ear, holding him close. “I have half a mind to throw you to the ground and break your legs. But I won’t.”

The bay bore his teeth, making sure his canines were clearly visible. “Your mercy _astounds_ me.” He spat, tail switching furiously.

“You interest me, _colt.”_ Shadow murmured, a smile curling his lips as he felt Blues freeze in his grasp. “I’d much rather take you back and make you into a _decent_ stallion.” He pressed himself further into the bay, so as to make sure he understood what force he was dealing with.

As the mustang shivered, eyes darting around as an uncomfortable warmth churned in his stomach, the friesian laughed again, a rich baritone.

“We wouldn’t have to tell a soul, either. Simply agree to convince Bass to come back with us, and I’ll make sure you leave well fed and satisfied.” Just as Blues thought Shadow’s grip was loosening, it tightened just short of strangling. “What do you say, Mustang? I certainly can’t force you, I have no lasso with me. But I _can_ break the rest of your ribs, if that sweetens the deal.” He growled huskily into the bay’s flattened ear.


	7. The Gelding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> inhales....is that,,,edginess i sense

"I'll get the damn kid back to you, alright?" Blues grunted, side-eying the stallion with daggers in his eyes. "We'll be there, at the stables. We'll meet you there in the morning. Deal?"  
  
Shadow seemed to contemplate the mustang's promise for a brief moment, not making any kind of notion that he was going to let go. Blues held his breath, dread settling hard and fast in his guts as he waited for a response.  
  
"Deal," he agreed after what seemed like an eternity, releasing the bay and stepping back, much to Blues' relief.  
  
He shook himself out, trying to shake off the stress that clung to him, and the weird feeling that had bubbled in his stomach. He knew for a fact that the friesian meant every word he had said, knew he was more than capable of doing it, and he wasn’t too keen on further injury. Just thinking about it made his skin prick and shiver.  
  
“I trust you’ll keep your word, Mustang.” Shadow had already turned to leave, facing away from Blues. He held his gaze ahead, looking out at the growing darkness. The moon shone above, its beams illuminating the frosty grass with a silvery sheen. “I will see you again in the morning, and perhaps we can start off on a new hoof, if you’re willing.”  
  
The dark stallion glanced back at Blues in a silent farewell, before he began his way back to the stables, the sheath of his katana clacking lightly against his breast with each step.  
  
He made a mental note to ask for his name again.  
  
Blues watched him to make sure he was really leaving, his dark form amongst the sea of silver growing smaller and smaller as the moments passed.  
  
With a mighty sigh, Blues decided to head back to the barn, feeling defeated. Just that one encounter left him mentally exhausted.  
  
Maybe he’d take Shadow’s offer.  
  
As much as it was in his nature to argue and fight, it landed him with an injured rib, and if he kept it up, the number would only keep stacking. And if he was completely honest, he wanted to keep the rest of his ribs and limbs intact.  
  
Unfortunately, his night wasn’t over, although he wanted nothing more than to plop down on the pile of hay and drift off. He still had to talk the kid into going back.  
  
And it wouldn’t be as simple as telling him he wasn’t cut out for the wild life, as telling him he didn’t realize how difficult and unforgiving it could be. No. He’d have to think of some way into tricking Bass into willingly going. There was no way he’d be able to wrangle the young stallion; he was practically twice his size in weight. That’d only wind him up with another injury, even if accidental.  
  
He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at a couple of small tangles.  
  
Well, it was a good thing he knew how to get what he wanted. With a few sugar-coated words, he was sure Bass would fall for whatever ruse he came up with. An idea was already springing in his mind when he drew nearer to the barn, and he hoped it’d go as smoothly as he thought it would. The kid was a little...overtrusting, to say the least.  
  
All was quiet around the barn. Part of him hoped that Bass had wandered off so that he could get a quiet moment to himself, but part of him wanted him to be there so he could get things over with.  
  
The latter was true as he walked inside the old barn, immediately seeing Bass perk up, who had been sorting a small pile of interesting rocks on the floor.  
  
“You’re still here,” Blues voiced in some sort of unhappy greeting, his hooves clopping past the kid on the wooden flooring of the barn.  
  
“When are you gonna show me how to live out here in the wild?” Bass didn’t hesitate to confront the bay, obviously bored until he had someone to pester, rising up to his hooves.  
  
He watched the mustang take notice of the few things he had gathered that day. As well as the empty feed sack, the core of an apple still laying next to it.  
  
“Tell you what,” Blues began to indulge his company, his rusty voice slow and clear, putting on a nonchalant act. He wasn’t even going to bother getting angry now that’d he’d go hungry that night. “If you can prove you’ve got what it takes, then I’ll let you tag along with me.”  
  
Bass straightened, his hind hooves doing a little bounce of excitement.  
  
“Yeah, sure I can…!”  
  
“Hold on, now. You don’t even know what the test is going to be.” Blues gave him a look, cocking a brow. A challenge was the perfect plan. Already, he had the kid interested. That kind of naivety would get him killed, without a doubt.  
  
Good thing he’d be returned home.  
  
The young stallion stared back at him, tilting his head.  
  
“Test?”  
  
“Mhmm.” With a finger pointed at his empty feed sack, Blues continued. “Seeing as you helped yourself to the rest of my food, you’re gonna help me get more.”  
  
Bass was silent, eager to hear what he needed to do to prove himself.  
  
“We’ll leave in the morning, back to the stables. If you can snag enough food to refill the bag, _without_ getting caught, then you’ll prove to me you’re cut out for the mustang lifestyle.”  
  
There was a determined look in Bass’ eyes, his brows set as he thought about the weight of his upcoming trial. He really, really didn’t want to go back there. Let alone steal from under Shadow’s nose. It’d be hard, even if he knew where everything was, but he could do it. He _wanted_ to do it. And if he wanted to do something enough, then he’d damn well succeed. His mind was set.  
  
Blues smirked to himself. Hook, line, and sinker.  
  
“Alright.” Bass nodded, his jaw square. “I’ll do it, no sweat. But...what if I do get caught?” A small pang of worry hit him, worry that’d he’d lose his only opportunity to become a wild mustang.  
  
“Then you have to return home,” Blues said matter-of-factly, his tail swishing once. “No skin off my hide if you fail, kid.”  
  
Bass grumbled a little to himself, not happy with the idea of going back to the stables and being forced to train as a warhorse. But, he had to at least try. He’d prove himself.  
  
“Alright, alright. But I’m not gonna fail.”  
  
“If you say so.” The bay shrugged, pawing at the haypile to form a nest. He carefully bent his knees, glad when the bandaging held up, and settled himself down completely. “Now go lay down or something so I can get some sleep.”  
  
Blues frowned when Bass obeyed, but by doing so, decided to flop down beside him again, roughly bumping into him.  
  
Hadn’t he ever heard of personal space?  
  
At least those giant hooves were nowhere near his face when he ungainly flung himself down.  
  
He was too tired to push him away - not like he could in the first place - and just angled himself away, making sure his blanket kept himself covered. It really was nice. Good thing that Shadow was too much of a fool to go and give him something for free. With a content sigh, Blues closed his eyes, resting his chin on his arms.  
  
Thankfully, Bass didn’t make a further peep.  
  
But…  
  
Blues frowned, flicking an ear.  
  
He was just about to drift off, when he noticed the kid shivering. He could feel it, since he was laying up against him. It’d keep him up all night, especially if he kept on chattering his teeth like that.  
  
He pushed himself up on his elbows, looking at the slumbering yet uncomfortable young stallion. He had curled a little in attempt to get warmer, but it clearly didn’t help much.  
  
Silently, Blues shifted, reaching down to undo the tie of his blanket. He took it off, before quietly draping it over Bass’ back. The younger made a content noise, snuggling under the warmth of the blanket, a small smile appearing on his face.  
  
Now satisfied he’d get some sleep, Blues wrapped his poncho around his shoulders and settled back down, just a tad colder than before.  
  
“Thanks, Blues…” Bass had muttered in his sleep, his pudgy cheek smooshed on a forearm.  
  
Blues stiffened, but relaxed a second later. He glanced at the kid in the dark, fixing his eyes back on the bare wall, moonlight filtering in through the empty window, once he confirmed that Bass was indeed asleep.  
  
He had to admit, the kid made a great heating pad.  
  
Albeit a loud one.

\--

Shadow cantered swiftly home, eyes narrowed, ears pinned.

Something strange stirred in him, and he had to clear his head. Back at the barn he had felt an urge almost foreign to him, a need to force another stallion into submission, by whatever means necessary. As was law of the stables, stallions were not to be kept in the same territory or housing, to prevent fights.

This was the first time Shadow had been around another intact male for an extended period of time.

He huffed loudly, and trotted for a bit, tail swishing with irritation. Any excess...stress he had left over, he could take out on his stable’s resident gelding.

The moon had dipped towards the horizon as he returned to the greener grasses of his home. To his surprise, the lovely chestnut pinto gelding stood at the inner gates, foreleg poised.

A smile bloomed on his lips as Shadow drew nearer, and he reached out well toned arms to greet him, hind legs prancing in place. The friesian gladly swept him up into a warm embrace, burying his nose in the gelding’s sweet smelling undercut. The two exchanged tender nickers, blowing softly on one another’s skin, before the gentle kisses set in.

They kept their long ears perked for any other sounds, lest this small affection be noticed by their masters. Once they had satisfied each other’s need for quiet reassurance, they walked haunch to haunch into the stable.

As they settled together on Shadow’s padded straw bed, covered in fine blankets and cushions, the stallion lay back so the chestnut could curl against his underside. More tender nickers were exchanged, and the gelding leaned into the friesian’s broad chest, reaching up to comb out any tangles in the stallion’s raven mane.

“Did you find him? Is he unharmed?” The chestnut’s voice was soft and tenory, and could easily be mistaken for a mare’s. Such was the fate of geldings.

“Of course. He will arrive tomorrow morning, you can be sure of it, Dearest.” Shadow purred, tail swept between the paint’s hocks. “We may have a new visitor from the wilds as well. The master wishes to see him.”

The younger cocked his head, ears twitching eagerly. Visitors were few to none here. He wondered what the master could possibly want with a foreigner.

“The mustang?” The gelding chirped, then frowned lightly, “Oh, Shadow, you _did_ help him, didn’t you?” His voice rose imploringly.

The friesian chided with amusement. “Of course, Metaru. I did what I could for an unruly mustang like him.” He nuzzled the chestnut’s neck, kissing at the suntanned skin. “He’s only a little smaller than you, Dearest. I’m sure he’d grow fond of you once we convince him to stay.” Dark eyes watched as the gelding’s side heaved excitedly, and he hiked up a hind leg as the kisses grew more languid.

“I hope so. I can’t imagine how dirty his coat must be, and how underfed he is. But we can change that, can’t we?” Metaru mumbled, feeling slender hands stroke his sides, before massaging the base of his withers. He closed his eyes, panting lightly as he gave in to the petting.

“We will, Dearest. We will.”


	8. Hotel California

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YOU CAN CHECK OUT BUT YOU CAN NEVER LEAVE

Blues awoke to the feeling of being crushed in a warm, furry vice. Unfortunately, it turned out to just be Bass, cuddling him tightly, and holding him to his massive frame like a foal’s toy.

Once the bay had sorted out their many legs in a frustrated huff, he wobbled to his hooves.

“Hey! Kid! Get up. We gotta go on your...first mission.” He groaned inwardly at his word choice, but whatever got the colt moving was what mattered most.

In a flash, the shire stumbled to his massive hooves, but his torso still slumped childishly. He grumbled and mumbled about ‘five more minutes’ but with a sharp tail whip to his face, he shook off his sleep completely.

Before they left, Bass adamantly returned the saddle blanket Shadow had given to the bay, tying it tight around his waist.

“I feel bad about taking from Shadow, though. What about my family, won’t they get hungry if we take some food?” He whinnied softly, though his belly growled.

Blues snorted, and swished his tail.

“Your place has loads of food. _Loads_.” He patted the boy’s withers. “Trust me, kid. They won’t even notice what’s missing.”

Somewhat reassured of his moral predicament, Bass nodded.

\--

It went just as expected for a big dark bay shire colt trying to sneak into the silo in broad daylight. Blues watched with bemusement from behind a large, but barren apple tree a little past the paddock.

Metaru trotted up behind Bass, scolding him loudly for running off again and scaring the herd, but worst of all, upsetting the master.

Bass seemed to sulk, feeling guilty for making his family and friends upset, but when the master was mentioned, he grew indifferent, turning his head away.

“You kept your word, Mustang.” Shadow’s voice from behind made the bay’s hairs stand on end, and he froze. He didn’t even dare turn around. “Now, now, don’t be so skittish.” The stallion chuckled, trotting up to sidle beside the mustang, “You’ve been placed under my care while you’re a guest here.”

Blues’ ears were pinned flat against his skull as he whale eyed the friesian. He once again was dressed in fineries, but this time his raven hair was styled into a taut bun on the top of his head.

“I have absolutely no intention on harming you, as long as you keep yourself away from the foals and mares.” Shadow chuffed, “Now then, let’s get on with introductions. Throughout the day, we must remain formal in the eyes of my Master, but when night falls, we can shed such things and speak freely. Understood?”

Blues grunted in acknowledgement, flanks still shivering.

“I am Shadow, a PRE* Friesian stallion. My guard is the third sector, of which I am the first stallion, twenty-fourth stallion overall.” He cleared his throat, “Though, numbers have nothing on rank, just time of initiation to our work.”

Blues snorted, blowing a forelock from his eyes.

“My sire was--”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you have your whole _dam_ family tree mapped out,” The mustang sniggered at his little pun, “But I don't wanna hear it. Dams and sires aren’t what define a centaur. Before you ask, my name’s Blues. And that’s all you’ll get from me today, bud.”

Shadow quirked a brow, but conceded. With a nod of his head, he motioned Blues towards the stables.

“First of all, you need to be groomed. Badly. I’ve arranged my gelding Metaru to help with this, since I’d prefer not to eviscerate you for kicking a human stablehand.”

“...Way to think ahead, Purebred.” The mustang hissed, and followed, albeit reluctantly. Suddenly, he realized with a cold horror what the stallion had just said. “Your...your _WHAT?!”_ It was if all the air had been sucked from his lungs.

“Gelding?” Shadow slowed his walk to a halt, tilting his head with the question. “A colt that is neutered before reaching full stallionhood.”

Blues hooves stuck fast to the cold earth, and his whole body hunched, as if he were in the throes of colic. To think, the humans would stoop so low...to castrate another creature with such intelligence, with clear sentience. And knowing the centaurs most likely submitted without raising a single hoof.

“...” His face grew pale, and he clutched his poncho to himself, shaking violently.

The friesian saw the extreme discomfort of the bay, and whickered reassuringly.

“It doesn’t hurt them at all. They’re put into a deep sleep, and wake up without any pain.” Shadow trotted back around to stand beside the mustang. “Not all colts are meant, or have the desire to breed. It keeps the tensions low between stallions in the herd, and geldings make excellent companions for mareless stallions.”

Blues felt a dry heave wrack his chest, and he shied away. It sounded like Shadow was simply reciting some textbook quote to him.

“Blues.” The voice was firm. “I cannot change what has been done to these colts. But I can do whatever is in my power to make them happy, and believe me when I say they still have purpose. Many love to teach and train the colts and fillies, and help broodmares care for their foals.”

Before the mustang could respond, Metaru pranced lightly up to the pair.

“Oh, Shadow, is this our visitor?” A foreleg, poised, as was custom. “We should take him in to be groomed and fed, for being kind enough to bring Bass back to us.” The pinto smiled demurely at the bay. “We are very much in your debt, sir.”

Blues’ heart ached with confusion. Though the gelding’s scent was deeply disturbing, his body was strong, and his face shone with a quiet happiness. He resisted the urge to bolt.

Equus only knew what part of him Shadow would break for doing _that_.

He forced one leg after another, following the chestnut inside the stables, tunnel visioning on his sloping shoulders and shifting withers, so he didn’t have to see each stall as he passed by, even though a majority were empty due to morning turnout.

They reached a large, open room, with pristine white marble walls and thickly textured floors, to prevent slippage when wet.

“Shadow, would you like to help?” Metaru called out softly, as the black stallion looked on to his gelding helping Blues into position on the mats.

“No, I must prepare his feed. Take good care of him, Metaru. I expect him to look like a showing stallion when I return. Treat any wounds he may have as well, and if he gives you an ounce of trouble, call for me. He knows better.” Shadow made sure to give the mustang a stern look, before turning tail and trotting gracefully back towards the paddock.

Metaru turned to Blues and smiled.

“Shadow may seem harsh, but he does it out of kindness. Any reprimand he gives is much gentler than our master’s, and it reminds us of that.” The gelding’s soft hands carefully undid the plush saddleblanket, hanging it up on a hook on the wall. “He must like you an awful lot to lie to you.”

Blues instantly stiffened.

“Lie?” He neighed HOARSELY.   ~~Fuck~~

“Yes. To say the Master has interest in you.” Metaru gently unwrapped the rib brace. “He must have convinced the Master he could get some sort of information out of you. But it’s no secret what he really wants if you look in his eyes.”

The mustang’s belly knotted with discomfort.

“You have something he’s only ever dreamed of, Blues. Freedom.” The pinto’s fingers were thorough as he worked through finding scars and old wounds in the bay’s hide. “He wants to know what it’s like.”

“...” The stallion hummed uneasily. “...Why are you telling me this…?”

Metaru laughed quietly.

“So you can fight back if he confronts you. Physically you’re no match, but psychologically, you have the upper hand. Just treat him with respect, and you’ll get to keep all your limbs.” The gelding whickered playfully, “Speaking of, stop being so fidgety. I can’t wash you if I can’t keep a hold of your legs. Easy, I won’t hurt you. Relax.”

Blues took this time to look over the gelding.

He was strong, that was for certain, despite his slender build. He looked to be some sort of trotter, perhaps fox, especially by his gait and tendency to have hackneyed steps. His coat was a luxurious tobiano mix of chestnut red and white, and his tail a rich mahogany. His mane, or lack thereof, was kept in a fluffy, rolling undercut, and unusually scarlet.

Blues figured he must have spent time around Bass, and been convinced to dye it.

A snort. _How ridiculous._

His forelegs and hindlegs had lovely gradient cream stockings, and cherrywood hooves that shone like fiery gold in the broad sunlight.

The gelding’s skin was sunkissed and though obviously toned, equally soft looking. His eyes matched the dark sheen of his hooves, yet remained gentle, surrounded by a kind face. It was as if he were forever trapped in a state of young stallionhood, and it made for a very attractive appearance and disposition, much to Blues’ dismay.

“Blues is a strange name, seeing as you aren’t a roan or dapple or seal. May I ask where it comes from? Or did you name yourself?” The smooth, tenory voice broke the mustang's concentration. He realized he was being brushed out with a thick bristle brush as Metaru prepared the shampoos for lathering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imhales i know PRE stallions are reserved for Andalusians & their shit but just pretend that shadow has like. andalusian cousins bc hes pretty and im sure hes got some spanish bullshit in his blood somewhere , also im lazy and it makes him sound gayer and fancier


	9. Show Stallion Standard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here we go folks heres our first vaguely nsfw chapter but enjoy the slow burn while it lasts

“No, it’s…” Blues huffed quietly, old memories rushing back to him. “It’s music. You know, the blues.”  
  
The gentle brushing slowed for a brief moment as Metaru thought to himself, brows knit lightly.  
  
“The blues? That’s human music, though, isn’t it?” Metaru tried to catch the bay’s eye, but they were fixated elsewhere. He almost seemed lost in another time, suddenly distracted by whatever was on his mind. “How do you know about it?” It was strange for a mustang to know about human music genre, if he supposedly kept away from humans and their culture.  
  
“It’s none of your business,” Blues remarked without sounding too harsh, glancing back at the gelding, wondering why these stable horses were all so nosy. It was question after question with them.  
  
Metaru dipped his head.  
  
“My apologies. I know you didn’t come here to be interrogated,” the pinto nickered softly, continuing to work the brush along Blues’ flank.  
  
Blues suddenly felt bad.  
  
“It’s okay,” he said raspily, hoping he hadn’t come off as rude to the gelding. He was being nothing but kind to him, and helping him out for nothing in return.   
  
The gelding didn’t seem upset, so he relaxed.  
  
Metaru worked his way down, brushing out the majority of the dirt and debris out of Blues’ coat with the bristle brush. He couldn’t help but notice the numerous small scars throughout his hide, particularly on his legs. His fur covered them for the most part, and they were old, but he still wished there was something he could do about them.   
  
A comfortable silence fell, and Blues found the soft sound of the brush quite soothing. Metaru was thorough yet amazingly gentle. Once he was done with one side, he moved to the bay’s other side, and was very careful not to agitate the area around his injury, avoiding it completely with the hard bristles.   
  
When he had used the brush over Blues’ body, he fetched a much softer brush, going over him once more with it to remove any further specks of dirt, and using the softer bristles to brush out his legs and scrupulously brushed his injury site. Blues hardly even felt it, and once he was done, Metaru bandaged him back up with the brace.  
  
“This is going to take a little more work,” Metaru said as he went towards Blues’ rear and lifted the long hairs of his tail. “There’s a good many mats, so I apologize if I accidentally hurt you.”  
  
Blues hummed in understanding, hoping his tail didn’t get tugged on too harshly. It was obvious he didn’t ever put much care into his tail, and couldn’t remember the last time it didn’t have any tangles or leaves stuck in it.

  
With a comb, Metaru separated different sections of his tail, slowly combing out the larger tangles first. He gradually made progress, and before long, he was able to run the comb smoothly through his tail.  
  
“Alright! We’re almost done,” Metaru told Blues, now with a sponge in hand. He had filled a bucket with warm water, and he wet the sponge gratuitously, taking it to Blues’ flank.  
  
Blues stiffened at the feeling of the water coating him, but quickly forced himself to relax. The water was warm, and Metaru was brisk enough to keep it from cooling down.  
  
Next came the shampoo, and the gelding applied it with the sponge, lathering a section of the bay’s hide with small circling motions.  
  
Blues was beginning to wonder how many more steps there were to the whole cleaning process when Metaru promptly rinsed the shampoo off with the bucket of water, before moving on. He washed him a part at a time, having to refill the bucket of water only a few times.  
  
A dry cloth was used to dry out his fur to keep him from getting cold, and Blues was glad, as he had already begun to shiver once the water coating him chilled the longer it was on him.  
  
His tail was washed last, and Metaru decided not to make mention of just how much dirt was rinsed out when he used a hose to remove the now dirty shampoo. He washed his tail twice for good measure - since it was black, it wasn’t as easy to see the dirt had he had a more lightly colored tail.  
  
Finally, the pinto wrung the excess water out of Blues’ tail, and combed it out once more.  
  
Wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, Metaru stepped back, getting a look at Blues’ now shiny coat. The bay stood there awkwardly, very much aware of how _clean_ he felt now than before.   
  
“You look like an entirely different horse…!” Metaru chuckled, taking in the result of his work with a hand to his chin and an approving nod.  
  
Granted, Blues’ pelt lacked the healthy sheen seen on the stable centaurs, dull from lack of nutrition, but as soon as he’d put on weight, the pinto was certain he would glow. The rich mahogany of his fur contrasted nicely against his more golden undersides now that a layer of dirt wasn’t covering him. A dorsal stripe that branched into shoulder stripes, color matching the black of his high stockings, was now more distinguishable as well.  
  
Somewhat uncomfortable under his new acquaintance’s observant gaze, Blues fidgeted, missing the shroud of his poncho.  
  
“Of course, your hooves still need to be dealt with. Badly,” Metaru went on as he moved around to get a better look at the bay’s worn feet. He didn’t even have to lift Blues’ leg to see just how unkempt they were. “Luckily the terrain helped to wear them down, otherwise they’d be terribly overgrown. We just need to take care of all the scratches and even them out, and they’ll look brand new. We can even shoe them, if you’d like. There’s nothing better feeling than freshly shod hooves.”  
  
Blues glanced down at his front hooves, not sure how’d he’d feel about wearing horseshoes. He’d always gone natural, obviously. He figured his feet would feel heavier, if anything.  
  
“But we can always do that later on.” Metaru finally stopped sweeping his body to look for any other imperfections and looked to his face, smiling warmly. “Have you eaten yet today? I’m sure Shadow has prepared something similar to what we feed our gravid mares.”  
  
Blues gave him a confused look.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Well, you obviously need to be fattened up. So foods high in fat will do you good,” Metaru explained. “Pregnant mares must eat a more...rich diet, since they’re eating for two, you know. Of course, every portion is carefully monitored, and the nutrition well balanced, so no one gets more than they need. Once you’re at a more healthy weight, the types of food and how much you get will change.”

  
Swiveling an ear back, Blues made a small frown that Metaru didn’t see.

That’s only if he stuck around long enough.

“Anyway, why don’t we go find out if your food is done being prepared?” Metaru suggested, still smiling. Blues wondered if he got tired of smiling so much. He guessed he was just being polite.

After motioning for Blues to follow, Metaru lead him out of the large room. The bay’s poncho and saddleblanket were left behind to be washed, and Blues felt naked without his old poncho that he rarely ever took off.

“Everyone else has already had their breakfast,” Metaru mentioned along the way, as they passed through the stables once more. “I hope you will be more comfortable without so many strange eyes on you.”

“Thanks,” Blues nodded, silently even more grateful for how attentive and thoughtful the gelding was even though he barely knew him.

\--

Metaru paused his walk, noticing how oddly the mustang held himself now that he was clean and unclothed. He furrowed his brow and sighed sympathetically.

“Here, let’s get you a--” The gelding began, then suddenly bristled from his tail to withers, eyes wide as the stallion turned to face him with a confused look.

‘Ah…! I forgot...your torso…” The tobiano’s long ears flattened to the side, and he blew apologetically. “Come, follow me back. Shadow will have my hide if I forget anything.”

Blues frowned deeper, marveling at how expressive this centaur was. He was a bit more high strung than Shadow or he, perhaps due to his breed. He shrugged, however, and followed the foxtrotter back _towards_ the washroom, watching his hackneyed gait and bouncing rump.

With a grunt, he turned his head, not wanting to focus on it. Now was _not_ the time.

However--

Though the lighting was dim, seeing as the majority of the centaurs were outside for morning feed and graze, Blues narrowed his eyes to stare between the gelding’s haunches.

_There...really was nothing there, was there?_

He snorted to himself and straightened. Even by his own standards he felt rude for doing that, but if something could make him hate humans more, then--

“Here, just stand as you did before, please.” Metaru piped up, before trotting back up with different bottles of wash and shampoo and conditioner.

The mustang went rigid as warm water sprayed his hair, then shoulders on down.

“Now I can see why Shadow likes you so much…” The gelding whickered softly, tugging Blues down lightly by the shoulders so he could begin washing his hair. “He saw a diamond in the rough.”

“If Shadow liking me means he also wants to skewer me on that katana of his, then how do I make him _un_ like me?” The mustang spluttered, resisting the urge to rub the water from his face.

The foxtrotter laughed louder, a breezy sound.

“Shadow fixates. It’s part of his breeding. Speaking of…” Metaru worked soapy fingers thoroughly through Blues’ wild hair. “You must have had such a lovely sire and dam to have such a beautiful coat.”

Not really expecting much of a verbal response, the tobiano chuffed fondly as the mustang’s body slumped with relaxation, ears nearly limp as his hair was played with.

He made sure to rinse until the water ran clear, then applied the conditioner to sit while he started to soap up the stallion’s torso.

The gelding was rarely this intimate with any other stallion than Shadow, and even with mares he felt a little nervous -- but this was completely different. The mustang’s natural scent was overwhelming, even through the masking of shampoos and soaps.

Bunching up his haunches, Metaru snorted to himself, and continued to work, massaging the wash into tan skin and wiry muscle.

Blues shook out his hair a bit and grunted quietly, puzzled. What was wrong with this centaur? His pupils were so dilated, his eyes nearly seemed black. And his hocks kept rubbing up against one another. The hell was this?

The massage was having an effect on him as well, however. He huffed loudly as the soft hands worked firmly at his hips and lower, before Metaru had to sidle up to get his back.

Once he was scrubbed down a second time and a moisturizer was applied, he was sprayed down again, then patted with a fluffy towel. The trotter took great care rinsing the conditioner from his hair, and combed it out.

“Now, it’s best if you just...yes, right here, if you could stand under the blow dryer…” Metaru mumbled. “I have to...make sure I didn’t forget anything else…”

Blues’ ears twitched, still miffed with how odd this centaur was behaving--at least until he caught glimpse of his underbelly.

A prickling heat raced up from his fetlocks to his face. The bastard was showing…! The mustang swallowed thickly, shifting his weight uneasily. Had he really...been aroused by this? He watched as the chestnut padded behind him.

All of these thoughts were swept away with a sharp whinny, as his OWN felt the gentle touch of hands. But his cocked hindleg was swiftly grappled.

“I’m...sorry, Blues. It’s... just procedure.” Metaru murmured, “Please try to relax, I won’t be rough.”

The mustang’s ears flattened to the side, his chest heaving. He’d never felt hands down there, besides his own, of course. His eyelids fluttered as the skilled stroking continued, and his haunches bunched slightly.

Blues whuffed throatily, the sensations coaxing him completely from his sheath. He jerked as something warm was splashed onto it. Was...he being cleaned?! As much as his body was enjoying it, wandering fingers were excessively thorough in cleaning his sheath and BALLS ** ~~im forever going to hate describing testicles and now i get to hate describing horse nuts. awesome.~~**

He felt his hocks wobble. This damn trotter was milking him! However, after a few confirming squeezes of his pouch, the hands slipped away, leaving him hot and bothered, face flushed.

“I apologize. But show stallion condition is a very high standard.” The gelding’s face was also bright red. “Everything has to be checked and cleaned.” He dipped his head slightly.

“The good news is, you’re all done. While you go out to meet Shadow, I’ll work on getting the smithy ready for shodding you.” Metaru’s face beamed now. “Besides being Shadow’s gelding, I’m also the blacksmith for his stable. Your hooves will feel so much better once they’re shod.”

Blues grumbled to himself, cheeks still rosy as he shifted his back legs.

“If you’d like to wear something since it’s so cold, you can choose something from this wardrobe here...and let me brush out your hair while you look…” The tobiano chirped a little hastily, ruby eyes glowing with embarrassment.

Once Blues had decided, and his mane and tail shone and sparkled, his coat gleamed (best it could in his condition), and his hooves lightly cleaned, Metaru shooed him away to meet with Shadow.

“Go on, and don’t come back until he’s fattened you up!” The gelding whickered teasingly, cheeks still brimming with rosedust.

 _What a terribly handsome young stallion_ , He thought to himself, _Dark, rugged, and the strong, silent type...but with a devilish streak. No wonder he fascinated Shadow._

Perhaps...perhaps he would be kept as a stallion for the friesian’s pleasing, or made a gelding like him.

Metaru stiffened at such wishful thinking, and scowled at himself. He needed to cool down and get to the smithy. The mustang had barely been here for more than a few hours.

\--

Blues trotted out, his new outfit both pleasing and warm to him. Shadow met him at the gate with a slow nod.

“Metaru works miracles as usual, I see. Come with me, I’ve had my work cut out preparing your first meal, seeing how miserable you looked earlier.” The friesian said snidely, smirking slightly.


	10. ENTER: rock & roll + sexual horse tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ooooooooooooooooooohohohohoh there it is. the plot device.  
> bc we're impatient and want them to FUCK.
> 
> ALSO ft rock n roll
> 
> also im too lazy to edit in italics for this update, sorry yall

Blues snorted indignantly, walking beside the dark stallion.

“Excuse me for looking as terrible as I feel,” he countered, still growing used to how his new clothes felt against his skin. It was lighter than his poncho, and much softer - a material of higher grade. “You know, you sure know how to make your guests feel welcomed. I’m starting to prefer that other one.”

Shadow glanced at him, turning a corner.

“We don’t get many visitors like you,” he admitted lowly, his strides more assured than the bay’s, who trailed just a step behind, uncertain in his strange surroundings. “It may come as a surprise to you, but you are the first mustang that has stepped hoof in these stables with welcomed arms. We don’t really have a protocol for such an occasion.”

“Actually, you do,” Blues muttered - a weird one at that, that left him feeling violated - looking at the walls as they passed. He had to admit, the stables were very warm and roomy, and they seemed to have everything a centaur could want.

Still, he thought darkly, these centaurs had been brought up in a world where they did not get to think for themselves, to choose what they wanted. Where their lives were routine and dull. All for the humans.

He glimpsed at Shadow through the corner of his eye, his expression stoic and dutiful.

He wondered if he had chosen to become a guard, or if it was decided for him. The latter was probably true, he figured. In a way, he felt bad for him.

Blues thought back to what Metaru had said, and he didn’t blame Shadow for wanting the freedom to choose.

Shortly, they arrived to the cafeteria, where meals were prepared for the day.

“Please,” Shadow began as he showed Blues to a resting spot, his long tail grazing the floor ever so slightly, “make yourself comfortable. I will bring you your food.”

Doing as he was told, Blues settled, trying to force away the growling of his stomach. He watched Shadow disappear into what must have been the kitchen, and wondered if anyone had helped him make the meal.

When the friesian returned, he carried a large tray in his hands, and Blues immediately noticed a couple of apples on it, along with a few dishes and bowls.

Once the tray was set in front of him, Blues couldn’t stop himself from practically drooling at the sight, eyes wide.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had something that actually took time to make.

“I hope you enjoy,” Shadow spoke, folding his hands behind his back.

But before he had a chance to explain what was laid out in front of the mustang, he promptly picked up a bowl and dug in, tipping it to his mouth, practically shoveling the food in.

Shadow gave the bay a dirty look, but he didn’t notice. He supposed manners were past someone who lived out on his own.

Then again, he couldn’t really blame him. All he had to do was glance at his ribs and he remembered how undernourished the younger stallion was, and knowing Bass, he probably mooched off of the food he had stolen the night he stayed with him.

Well, that would soon change. As long as he would cooperate.

\--

“I don’t see him anywhere.”

“What are we gonna tell Dad?”

“You saw those hoofprints - /something/ happened. We have to look for him.”

“I’m sure he’ll come back.”

“Rock, sometimes you’re too much of an optimist. What would Blues do if one of us went missing?” a small palomino with a white spotted blanket that marked her rump gave her brother a hard look, her long blonde hair in a ponytail.

The blue roan appaloosa swiveled his ears back, shrugging his shoulders meekly, knowing his sister was right.

“He’d look for us,” Rock admitted, a little ashamed. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, it was just that he knew Blues could take care of himself. He had for years now.

“Right,” his sister, Roll, nodded with finality. The creamy-colored appaloosa turned away from the old barn that they had searched. “C’mon, we at least have to make sure he’s safe.”

The two set at a brisk pace, the large prints still clearly visible on the earth. Every now and then, they could make out a set of smaller prints amongst the larger - they had to belong to Blues.

Before long, the tracks led them to a fenced pasture, where several centaurs were out and about, enjoying the warmth of the sun on the chilly day.

Rock and Roll stayed within the cover of a nearby line of trees, doing as best they could to hide.

“Any sign of him?” Roll asked quietly, peeking out from within the shadows.

Rock shook his head, scanning the area; from what he could tell, there were several other pastures, all connected by a large network of stables. He knew Blues usually stayed clear of such places, unless he had no other source of food. The appaloosa didn’t approve of the bay’s...unorthodox methods, but he and his sister were more than aware that the mustang was too stubborn to ask for help when it came down to it.

“You think he might be inside?” the boy wondered aloud, knitting his brows.

“Why are we whispering?”

A strange voice suddenly sounded beside them, and both siblings jumped, back legs kicking out, squealing in surprise. They spun to face the source, ready to bolt.

Just a few feet away stood a dark stallion that was several hands taller than them, almost monstrous in comparison, yet he seemed young enough to be their age. His feathered legs were extremely muscular, and his body was built like a barrel. He flashed a toothy grin, the bright purple of his hair something they hadn’t ever seen before.

“WHERE’D YOU COME FROM?!” Roll demanded, fur bristling.

“I can be pretty quiet when I want to be.” Bass crossed his arms proudly, straightening.

Both Rock and Roll were at a loss at how such a large centaur managed to sneak up to them, unseen and unheard. They hadn’t even caught a whiff of him until it was too late.

“I’m willing to bet my spots this is the one Blues was with,” Roll whispered to Rock, using a hand to shield her mouth.

“There’s no need to whisper, you know,” Bass grumbled, ears pinned back in annoyance.

“Sorry,” Rock gave the shire an apologetic dip of his head, trying to appear polite. “We’re just looking for someone.”

Bass quirked his head.

“Have you seen a mustang around anywhere?” Roll asked bluntly, more than certain that this stable centaur knew of Blues’ whereabouts.

“Depends who’s askin’.” Bass gave them a wary stare, looking down his nose.

Rock glanced at his sister, stepping forward to speak.

“Please, he goes by Blues. Have you possibly seen a loner near these parts?”

“Blues?” Bass leaned in, much more interested now. “Yeah! I know him.”

The siblings exchanged a glance. This stable centaur knew him...?

“Where is he?”

Bass motioned towards the stables with his head, raising a hoof.

“He’s with Shadow. But...you can’t go in there. I already got in enough trouble,” Bass said, pouting slightly. He perked up a moment later, looking at the two newcomers with a glimmer in his eyes, swishing his tail eagerly. “But you can play with me instead…!”

Roll snorted, and Rock gave the larger stallion a gentle smile.

“Maybe some other time…” he began lightly, hoping the shire would understand. “We really just need to see Blues.”

Shoulders slumping, Bass frowned. He was tired of doing nothing back at the stables, it was boring without any other centaurs his age.

He looked at the appaloosas, screwing up his mouth as he thought.

“I can try to get you to him,” he said, wanting to help in some way. Maybe then they’d want to be his friend. “But no promises.”

“Thank you,” Rock smiled warmly, and Roll nodded.

“C’mon…!” Bass neighed and turned tail, setting off at a steady canter as he weaved through the trees and out onto a path, his huge hooves thundering on the hard earth.

Rock and Roll were right behind him, although somewhat uncertain, easily catching up, their smaller bodies much more maneuverable.

“My name’s Bass, by the way…!” Bass called back to them, looking over his shoulder.

\--

Shadow watched with a furrowed brow as Blues ate with fervor, an odd sense of satisfaction settling over him.

The frown deepened as he realized just how young this stallion was. Barely more than a colt, though you wouldn't have been able to tell until now. Rounded cheeks that once hid behind dirt and cuts were rosy and full, even if the bronze skin was dull.

The friesian’s scowl melted as he looked over the boy. Such a lovely thing, now that he was cleaned and brushed. His dark bay coat was a beautiful deep red, and his stockings a striking charcoal black. His mane--hair, mustangs called it hair, didn’t they--a dusky auburn, fluffy and soft to the touch for certain. How it looped in little curls by his scruffy ears, trailed down the nape of his neck in waves…

Shadow stiffened as he realized Blues had noticed the staring, aqua eyes pinning him to the spot.

The black stallion snorted and shook his head, stamping a fore hoof in denial. He was just… /observing./

Even with that leery gaze upon him, the friesian couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mustang.

He was strong. Scruffy, wiry, rugged....but there were parts of him that still had that fine touch of foal fat, especially his chest and upper belly.

A lovely little thing.

Shadow huffed, shifting his weight on his hind legs. He wanted to scent him, but that was far below him.

With a decisive grunt, the stallion trotted gingerly up to the mustang, pushing himself up to him lengthwise as a sign of dominance, tail swishing.

Blues grumbled in disdain, but didn’t move. He just wanted to eat until it killed him. This shit the purebred had prepared for him was so good, and it was even nice and warm. Oats, mash, bran...even sugar cubes and honeyed apples…

The bay bristled mid chew as he felt strong hands on his withers.

“Relax. I just want to make sure you’re sound.”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” Blues grunted, glaring as he continued to shove food in his mouth.

“A colt such as yourself should have learned to be quiet when a stallion is addressing you.” Shadow hissed softly, massaging the skin over the ribs and belly.

Blues snorted, switching his tail with irritation.

“Yeah, no. Your ‘friend’ back there made sure I wasn't a colt anymore. The /fuck/ is wrong with you stable horses? The fuck do you do with show stallions?” He rubbed his hocks together uncomfortably.

“Breed them. Which you may be good for. Or, I may decide to keep you, if the Master deems it within my rights as a lead stallion.” Shadow stroked along the dorsal stripe, tail flicking in Blues face as he gave him a sly smile. At the horrified look on the boy’s face, the friesian curled his body around the mustang’s until he trotted back up to face him.

“You don’t listen well, do you? The things I say to you now can be overheard by anyone. What I say to you tonight is what matters.” His deep blue eyes shone with sincerity. “However…” A subtle grin slipped across his lips. “You /do/ interest me. Your coat is quite lovely to look at, and you have such an appealing torso.”

Blues bristled so hard his dorsal stripe flared as Shadow’s slender hand stroked down his cheek before gripping his chin firmly.

“And this face. Defiant. Willful.” The stallion took a step forward, leaning in to keep their gazes aligned. “I have seen stronger than you broken in the ring, Mustang. But you...you are one of a kind. Stupid, but unique. I’ll give you that, so don’t disappoint me.”

The bay grabbed the stallion’s arm and yanked it away, turning his head in disgust.

“I’m not some...some TROPHY for you to win!” He snapped, throwing the arm down.

“I know that, Blues.” Shadow whickered softly, and casually turned to walk on out to the paddock. “That’s why you interest me. Because I know I must prove myself to you, as much as you do to me.”

The mustang was taken aback. He rubbed his right ear, frowning. Had he heard that right?!

With a groan, he figured to just ignore it for the time being, and finish his food. But before he could even raise his hand to his mouth, a panicked braying caught his attention.

A mare!

Shadow was off like black lightning, and Blues instinctively followed. A centaur was in serious danger.

“Shadow!” A bright red chestnut thoroughbred with a flaxen tail galloped up to the pair, chest heaving. “Shadow, there’s a foal, a foal out on the lake. The sun’s warming the ice, and he can’t get back to shore.” He reared a bit, digging deep furrows into the ground with his hooves in anxiety. “I’d go myself, but the broodmare has to be brought back to the stables. She’s in a damn panic! Go, hurry! Get out there, see what you can do. Ice is on his way. He may be able to reach the baby because he’s small, but--”

There was a sudden rush of wind and the mismatched thunder of a weakened gallop.

Shadow whipped around. Blues had taken off towards the lake.

With barely more than a nod, he flew right into a hasty gallop. They didn’t have much time. Had the mustang sensed this?


	11. blues does something really fucking stupid what a surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "BUT THATS HIS WHOLE CHARACTER!" YOU YELL
> 
> "YES! YES IT IS," I YELL BACK

Bass was careful to lead the two newcomers, knowing that if they weren’t on their best guard, his Master wouldn’t pass the opportunity to acquire a couple of new centaurs. And these two were a lot cleaner than Blues. He wondered if they were from another stable, since they were in much better condition than the lone mustang.

Luckily, he knew what certain paths were used more during the day, and took them on a specific route, running into no trouble along the way.

The trio almost froze in their tracks when the sounds of a distressed centaur roared throughout the area.

“Do you hear that?” Bass asked, more to himself, flicking his ears about and steering towards the source. It was usually quiet at the stables, especially when he wasn’t the one causing any mischief.

Rock and Roll didn’t have much choice but to follow, concerned as well. Whoever was making those sounds was in some sort of trouble.

They dashed down the path, through a small group of trees, rounding around the fields. The trees opened to an expanse of grass that wasn’t fenced in like the pastures, and the trio immediately noticed a couple of centaurs together.

Just then, a lone centaur charged past the other two, who seemed stunned at first. But a second later, the black one took off after him, and the other ran back to the stables to the group of mares in the pasture, ushering a mare back towards the safety of the building who wasn’t very willing to leave, insistently trying to turn back around.

“Blues!” Rock exclaimed once he realized who the speeding centaur was, instantly recognizing his dark red coat.

“That’s the lake…!” Bass added, his gruff voice laden with horror at the scene when the mustang sped out onto the ice without any hesitation.

“What’s he doing?!” Roll shouted in panic, joining the other two when they picked up their pace, pulling into a full gallop as they headed towards the commotion.

“There’s a foal out on the ice!” Rock pointed out as they drew nearer, watching as Blues headed towards the tiny shape in the middle of the lake.

Onlookers could do nothing but watch, but the young centaurs weren’t going to stand around if there was something they could do to help.

“Shadow!” Bass called to the black stallion, who didn’t follow the mustang out onto the ice. Instead, he steered around the shore, pressing on with all his might. He had a lot of distance to cover.

Bass pushed harder, struggling to catch up to him.

“Where’s Ice?” he asked when he pulled up to the older stallion’s side, knowing that the smaller centaur was better suited for the task of rescuing the foal.

“The fool ran out there before I could stop him - the ice is thinner than it looks. I’m going to meet him on the other side,” Shadow breathed out as he ran, steps unfaltering. The friesian tore on, having to go around the lake, lest he made matters worse. They had yet to see if the mustang’s insight was right.

Of all the bull-headed things...

Bass, Rock, and Roll followed without question.

\--

Blues inhaled deeply as he ran, the air entering his lungs sharp from the cold. It was a good thing he had eaten beforehand, he could use all the energy he could get.

The foal was quite far out; he must not have realized the danger when he decided to play on the ice until it was too late. Now, the little one stood frozen in fear of his predicament, wailing, his spindly legs splayed to keep himself upright on the slippery ice. His teary eyes barely made out the dark, blurry shape in the distance coming towards him.

Ears pinned back, Blues rushed forward, knowing that if he stopped, the ice was sure to crack under his weight. As long as his momentum carried him, he wasn’t going to be able to stop anyway.

He drew nearer with each passing moment, his hooves pounding on the ice. He could just make out the faint crackling sound of the warmed ice under his feet with each step he took, and it only fueled him on.

Moments passed, and he was mere seconds away from the foal, who stared wide eyed at him, stock still.

He couldn’t stop.

“Don’t move…!” Blues hollered to the young colt, cupping a hand to his mouth, his breath coming out in billowing puffs.

Time seemed to slow once he was in arm’s reach of the foal.

The muscles in his legs shook with force as his hooves stomped down on the frigid surface, the sun warming his back. Now, it almost seemed like he was about to dash right past the foal, or worse, trample him.

In the last moment, he made his move.

He leaned and hooked his arm under the foal’s barrel, and lifted, grunting when the sudden added weight threatened to throw off his balance and ignoring the pain flaring in his side. The colt securely latched his arms around the mustang’s neck, trembling, eyes squinched shut.

Blues never stopped.

He was relieved to have the foal in his arms, but it wasn’t over quite yet.

The mustang became all to aware of that when a sharp, splitting /pop/ sounded from right behind him, his eyes widening.

“/Fuck/,” the bay hissed through his teeth, quickly glancing behind himself. Spider webbing across the ice was the beginnings of a crack, and it was growing. Fast. “Hold on, kid…!” The small foal merely whimpered in response.

Adrenaline coursed through the mustang and he ran like he had never run before, racing the cracking ice as if it were a pursuing predator, teeth grazing at his heels. It spread quickly, reaching for him like a snare.

From the corner of his eye, he saw four figures circling around the ice, gradually making their way around the lake. Good, he thought. If anything happened, they’d be there to get the foal. He dared to glance at them, risking his footing, and his breath caught for a moment when he saw Rock and Roll sprinting alongside Shadow and Bass. He didn’t stare for long - he’d find out how they got there some other time. Right now, he just needed to focus on making it to the other side without taking an impromptu dip in the cold water.

So far so good.

It wasn’t long until Blues could see the edge of the ice.

His heart dropped in his chest.

He could /see/ the edge of the ice, where it stopped several meters from the shore. The ice that was still there was sure to be thin, having melted longer than the ice more further in. Well, his legs would get wet at best, although he still wasn’t keen on even that. He was never a fan of the cold.

Just when he thought he’d make it, his front hoof crashed through the ice and he cried out in alarm, his remaining legs unable to stop, and his hind flipped forward, his leg sinking into the water and buckling underneath him. He held onto the foal, trying to keep him out of the water as his body twisted to the side and slammed down, breaking the ice and plunging into the freezing water. The sudden shock of the water surrounding his thin skin was enough to hurt, but he somehow managed to throw his arm over the edge of the ice, his nails digging into it.

Only the foal’s rump fell into the water, and Blues was quick to haul him up onto the ice as it continued to crack around them, breaking the ice in chunks.

He righted himself in the water, and when he stretched his legs out, he found the smallest amount of purchase on the lakebed.

The bay saved his breath, holding in a sigh of relief.

With haste, he picked the foal back up, holding him in both arms like precious cargo to keep him out of the water, the foal’s short little tail dripping wet.

Blues used his chest to push through the ice, his new clothes soaked to his skin, legs growing numb as he walked, panting heavily from his run and the exertion of having to fight against the sharp ice.

By the time his belly was above the water, and he had to lift his legs higher to get through the sheet of ice, Shadow and the young centaurs were waiting anxiously on the shore. Roll shifted about on her hooves, resisting the urge to go meet him for only a moment before she briskly trotted out and into the water, not caring if her knees got wet.

She pulled her vest off, looking at the foal curled up in Blues’ arms.

“Hand him here,” she instructed, holding out the vest to wrap him in as Blues obeyed, staring at the small palomino, knowing that she was much stronger than she looked.

“Thanks.” Blues was still fighting to catch his breath, and the air was not helping to warm him up as he tried his best to keep the furious shivering of his body under control.

Roll turned to walk with him out of the water, holding in all the things she wanted to yell at him for. Sometimes he was so /reckless/, but she couldn’t bring herself to get angry at him for saving a child, despite him not thinking it through.

The others approached them as they made their way out of the now shallow water.


	12. Tenderheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hit me with that gay shit. 360 no scope me with that gay shit.

Shadow took the time to check over the foal in the strange filly’s arms, but upon hearing Blues drag himself from the icy waters, he whipped around, sable coat bristling wildly.

“You...You FOOL!” Shadow bellowed, his body shuddering with overwhelming emotion, to the point it overflowed in the form of glistening blue eyes.

The mustang found himself hauled up into the powerful embrace of the friesian, head held securely to his chest, slender fingers buried in his hair.

“...” Shadow’s heart pounded mightily against Blue’s ragged ear, and the grip tightened. Too tired to resist, the bay let his nose run and his knees wobble. “...You fool...it wasn’t even your own…”

The words “you fool” were murmured over and over again as the mustang was released, Shadow feverishly running his hands over the boy’s sides and cupping his cheeks, thumbs digging into the soft skin. The bay stared up at him deliriously.

“...Blues...here, lean on me. We have to get you back to the stables, you’ll fall ill if we don’t hurry…” The stallion’s voice was oddly soft. As if he were talking to an old friend, one he hadn’t seen in a long time.

Shadow pulled him in close, and puffed out his breast, foreleg stamping once into the cold earth as he took inventory of the centaurs that had gathered.

“You, filly. I do not recognize your scent. Please return the foal to the stable. Ice will guide you. If you disobey, the penalty is death.”

Ice made to speak up, his shaggy, snowy coat shivering.

“Sh-Shadow, /I/ recognize her scent, I--” He trailed off mid sentence, turning quiet eyes to the filly. “Let’s go, Roll. You should get going as soon as you can, though. You appaloosas sell for a high price around these parts, especially as breeding stock.” The small gelding blew under his breath. “I can’t bear to think of it, so let’s hurry. I’ll show you and Rock a safe way out.”

Shadow paid no attention to their exchange, however. He was much too focused on Blues’ ragged breaths. Something was very wrong with the mustang. A brief coughing fit confirmed the friesian’s fears as specks of bright red blood caught on his lips.

“...I can carry you, if necessary. Can you walk?” The stallion leaned down to catch the glassy eyed stare.

Blues drooled, stomach heaving now that the adrenaline had faded. He twisted away, and bent over, getting sick. Streaks of blood dripped from his chin, each breath a fight to take.

Shadow had had enough. Trotting briskly in front of the mustang, he dropped down to the ground entirely, crouching in a bizarre, cat-like fashion.

“Lay atop of me, Mustang. Just wrap your arms around my waist. I’ll carry you back.” He commanded loudly, “You’re too weak to walk all the way, and you’ll only get worse if we stay in the cold.”

Not really able to understand what was going on, it took Shadow a few more urgent demands for Blues to comply. The bay tottered over and flopped his legs over the friesian’s withers and haunches, wiry arms holding loosely to his torso. His head bent into his shoulder blades, the hot skin warming his frozen, leaky nose.

With a mighty snort, the stallion rose up, and wrapped his arms over the mustang’s, slender fingers knit securely in stubby ones.

He began at a walk, but slipped into a smooth canter, one he had been taught for dressage purposes, keeping his spine as straight as possible as he ran. He knew Ice, Bass, and the strange filly and colt had made it back with the foal by now, and it had only suffered minor cuts and scrapes. A warm bed and mother’s milk would be all that was needed for a swift recovery.

Blues, on the other hand…

Shadow ignored all cries and calls of his name as he entered the paddock, the distressed whinnies full of questions and alarm at the sight of a young stallion clinging weakly to his back.

He swept into the stables like a brewing storm, leaving the now cloudy winter morning outside. Swiftly, he trotted to his private stall, making sure to close it securely once he entered.

As carefully as he could, the black centaur first buckled down on his knees, then hocks as he crouched once more.

“You’re safe now. Relax.” Shadow shook himself lightly, to loosen Blues’ grip, then leaned, so he would flop off onto the small mountain of cushions and blankets.

“You stupid bastard…” The stallion bent over to help the mustang into a more comfortable position, a chuffing chuckle in his chest. “...Metaru went to all that trouble of washing you...and you go out and try to kill yourself by falling into a lake....”

Blues cracked an ugly, blood stained grin, but lay still on the soft bedding. Everything hurt way too much to talk.

“It’s idiotic to say, but don’t move. Just focus on breathing. I’ll take care of the rest.” Shadow whuffed as he got back to his hooves.

Blues eyed him blearily, watching the friesian pad about the enormous stall, gathering items. He grunted softly when the stallion returned to his side, carefully removing his clothing and setting it aside. A fluffy towel was applied to his legs and belly, rubbing him down thoroughly. Then another towel. And another, until he was completely dry.

A small saucer of crystal clear water was placed at the mustang’s dusty lips, and he drank slowly, sniffling as one hand held the cup up, and the other held the back of his head steady. The saucer was filled again and again until Blues grumbled and refused to swallow, water pouring down his chin as he drooled.

Shadow smiled, and patted it away with the soft towel.

“Close your eyes. I’m going to dress your legs and barrel now, so relax.” He whispered, gradually laying back the boy’s head, brushing out stray strands of auburn hair from his face.

Blues grunted, shivering. He cracked open one eye as Shadow pulled thick cotton leg warmers over his canons, and wrapped his body in a thick, plush saddle blanket.

“Foolish colt.” Shadow nickered tenderly, ocean eyes awash with emotion. He had felt it under his palm as he had secure the ties around the mustang’s breast.

A heart murmur.

“Here, eat this when your stomach settles, and tell me if you need anything.” Shadow placed a few alfalfa cubes in the calloused palm of the boy’s hand, “I can make some tea if you want to drink something warm.”

He watched as the bay’s fingers bent lightly around the cubes, and frowned.

With a huff, the stallion padded behind the mustang, and settled down, curling his muscular frame around him to share his warmth. A steady, but hushed stream of gentle whickers caught in his throat as he watched Blues slowly drift off, pulling up his knees and hocks like a foal.

Shadow leaned in, stroking his withers for a while, before coming his fingers through the boy’s thick, fluffy hair.

“...you fool...I should have known...should have listened to my own heart…”

\--

“You sure that baby will be okay?” Roll fretted quietly, bumping haunches with Rock for comfort as they walked with Bass, who had promised to show them a safe trail away from the stables. Ice had gone out to report the incident, while Quick had remained with the foal and its mother.

It had been one of his own colts.

The shire smiled reassuringly down at the palomino.

“Yeah, he’ll be okay. He was a little scrawny cuz he was born late this spring, but Elec said he didn’t get more than some bruised knees.” He swished his tail, and plodded on, before scowling a bit, looking up.

“...I think it may storm. I mean, like snow storm. The winds’ picking up…” The colt slowed his walk to a halt, and turned to face the pair. “...Maybe you should stay until it passes through. I don’t want you guys to get lost out here, not in the winter.”

Rock’s hackles raised.

“But you and Ice just lectured us on how dangerous it is if we enter this stable’s land…!” He stamped a foot, pushing his way to stand in front of Roll. All he wanted was to make sure his brother was okay, but they wouldn’t even allow that. And now--

“Rock, this is already much farther than we usually travel.” His sister reminded him gently, bumping his rump with her knee. “Bass is right. If it is going to be bad weather, we won’t be able to make it home before it gets dark, and I’m not keen on freezing to death.”

Bass perked up.

“Don’t worry. I may not be a lead stallion yet, but I’m treated like royalty around here anyway. If anyone bothers you, I’ll just trample them into the ground.” He flashed a bright grin, to which Rock recoiled uneasily and Roll smiled weakly. “Besides, our stable actually owes your herd for this. Foals are the most precious part of our stables, so...you’re kinda like heroes!” He pranced a bit in place.

Rock and Roll exchanged glances. They handn’t really done all that much at the lake.  All they really wanted was to see Blues, and to convince him to come back home to their father…

“And when your brother feels better, we’ll go see him. I think Shadow wants to keep him. I hope he does, then I can see him all the time!” Bass neighed happily.

\--

“What do you mean…’keep him?’” Roll gave Bass a quizzical look, brows furrowed deeply.

Bass’ smile turned into a frown. Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted that.

“Well, if Blues wants to stay here,” he began to explain, rubbing at the back of his head. “Shadow’s hard to read sometimes, but I think he actually likes Blues. I mean, I like him. I hope Shadow can convince him to stay with us…”

Rock and Roll exchanged a glance.


	13. Soften the Blows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rock/roll/bass are still there i promise i just love gay horses too much to focus on them more than 8 seconds
> 
> BONUS blues has a flashback for Angst

_“You should be more careful, Blues.”_

_The young colt, just now growing into his legs, scrunched his nose._

_“I’m okay,” he said, watching the kneeling man put a bandage on his knee. He had scraped it when he was running around outside, dashing through the nearby forest as he looked for anything of interest. But there wasn’t; he had explored those woods so many times, he couldn’t ever get lost. It was starting to get...boring._

_The man chuckled, fixing the colt with a warm gaze, his chin covered by a big, scruffy white beard._

_“I know, but I can’t help but get worried sometimes.” The man gave him a smirk, shaking his head. Had he known just how much trouble this colt would be, maybe he would have_

_Blues tested his knee and gave it a few flexes, staring down at it. He looked back up at the man._

_“Are you sure there aren’t anymore centaurs out there?” the bay asked curiously, still not entirely convinced by what he’d been told time and time again._

_The man sighed slowly, his patience never wearing thin at the colt’s inquisitive questions._

_“Not anymore, Blues. It’s too dangerous nowadays.” He wished the colt would understand that things were not the same as they used to be. Now that humans and centaurs lived amongst one another, the distant past was far behind them. The history of wild centaurs was lost, whether he liked it or not._

_Relieved when the colt didn’t press any further like he usually did, the man got back to his feet, his back protesting. With a small grimace, he put his hands on the small of his back and arched it, giving it a tiny crack before rubbing at it. He laughed to himself - the years were certainly catching up to him, and he wasn’t even /that/ old yet._

_“Can I go back outside?”_

_The man smiled, looking at the colt, who had gone over to look out the window. It was his favorite kind of day - sunny, a small breeze ruffling the tall grass. Clouds dotted the sky as they were gradually dragged along by the wind. The perfect day for exploring._

_“Of course.” The man went over to join him, staring out at the forest that lay not too far beyond. “But be back before dinner…!”_

_He reached down to ruffle the boy’s hair, who grinned up at him toothily before batting his hand away. His spun on his hooves and darted out the door._

_“Okay, Dad!”_

\--

Blues awoke to himself crying, his features contorting in discomfort, feeling the tears slowly trickle down his cheek. He took a moment to wipe them away, rubbing at his tired eyes as he gathered his bearings.

His cheek was rested atop someone else’s forearm, the light around him a soft, warm glow, and he was briefly taken back to a time when he had someone to look after him. A time where he always felt safe and loved, despite how hard it was for him to stay in one place. The itching in his hooves never did go away, even after all the years, and look at where it got him.

When it finally registered that he didn’t recognize his surroundings, nor the broad breast behind his head, he snapped to attention, pushing himself up on his hands to look around, bright eyes wide and alert.

He was met with Shadow’s calm gaze, his pale face framed by long ebony locks.

Blues’ face flushed furiously at their close proximity, a deep frown screwing up his mouth, and he tried to scramble to his feet, only for his limbs to succumb to fatigue. He grunted angrily when he gave up and resigned to his predicament, too sore to continue his struggle.

“Calm down,” Shadow said cooly, satisfied when the mustang just huffed in response, tugging at a nearby blanket to pull around himself, giving the stallion a quick glare. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a goddamn train.” Shifting, Blues grumbled to himself as he rubbed at his shoulder, rolling over a bit to adjust his legs. He knit his brows at the thick leg warmers wrapped around them.

“As I assumed.” Shadow nodded. “You should rest here until you have your strength back.”

“Where are we?” Blues finally settled down, eyes trained on the stallion once more.

“This is my stall. Don’t worry, no one comes here unless there is an emergency. We shouldn’t be disturbed.”

Blues was silent for a moment, staring down at the folds of the blanket.

“How’s the kid?”

Shadow rose to his feet, towering over Blues. “He is fine, thanks to you.”

Blues watched him as he padded around the stall, picking up a few items.

“I am indebted to you. As the head stallion here, the safety of all foals is under my responsibility.” Shadow went on, avoiding Blues’ gaze as he talked.

Shaking his head, Blues declined the notion.

“So? You don’t owe me shit.”

Saying no more, the black stallion seemed to be preoccupied, sifting through supplies he had on shelves. Shadow returned to Blues, easing himself down beside him once more.

“Why?” the black stallion was quiet as he spoke, folding his legs underneath himself.

“That sure is a broad question,” Blues commented.

“I mean...why did you do it? You had no reason to go out there.”

Blues narrowed his eyes, a little offended.

“Just because I don’t have a reason, doesn’t mean I’m not going to do anything when someone’s in trouble. That ice was going to crack sooner than later.”

Perhaps he didn’t help with it happening later, but that was besides the point. He wasn’t going to trust the ice to keep the foal out of the water for very long.

Shadow didn’t say anything further, instead, he sorted out the couple of supplies he had gathered, then reached down to remove the warmers off of Blues’ legs and set them aside.

“What are you doing?” Blues looked at the couple of bottles the stallion had set beside himself, watching as he picked one up and put some of the lotion on his hands.

“Just relax. This might help,” the friesian assured in the only explanation he would offer. He rubbed his hands together for a second, before placing them on the mustang’s forearm. Gripping his leg lightly, he began to gently squeeze the muscles, starting at the top and working his way down to the base of his arm, repeating the process several times. He moved from his arm up to his shoulder, and at that, Blues practically melted beneath is fingertips, feeling the tension slowly being worked out of his muscles as Shadow steadily increased the pressure. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Blues hummed and shook his head, his ears drooping down. “No. That..feels...really good.” It was almost enough to make him drool.

Casting a knowing smirk down at his slack jawed expression, Shadow wondered if the mustang had ever shown anyone else a glimpse of the complete relaxation and vulnerability that was now evident on his face. He worked in silence, relieving the bay’s muscles of some of the soreness that clung to them. Blues had laid out, his chin resting on his folded arms while Shadow worked his hands into his back when he spoke again.

“Those appaloosas...who are they?”

Not really willing to answer that question right away, Blues gave in. What did he have to hide, anymore? He was stuck there, for now, and once he could leave, he’d leave it all behind. So what did it matter if Shadow knew?

“My younger brother and sister.”

Shadow seemed to contemplate on his answer, truthfully not expecting that to be his response.

Perhaps he had been so willing to help the foal because he himself had younger siblings. It was never easy to see a young one in distress, especially when one had similar ties to another centaur.

Then again, maybe he was looking too much into it. Maybe he really didn’t have a reason other than he simply wanted to help, even if he didn’t get anything out of it.

Shadow decided he’d press as long as the mustang would allow, questions still on his mind.

“They don’t live with you, though, do they?”

“No. They live with a human.”

At that point, the friesian knew it was not his place to ask why the mustang seemed to hate humans so when his own siblings lived with one.

Minutes passed, and Blues’ body felt much better after the massage. His legs still gave him a little trouble when he went to stand, and he had to force himself to lay back down when he felt his knees begin to buckle, still a bit too weak to stay standing for long.

\--

“Rest, you fool. You’ve done enough today.” Shadow whuffed, watching as Blues sank back down on his hocks and knees beside him. “You’ve gone and made a right mess of your coat. Let me brush it back out.”

Before the bay could protest, the stallion lay almost entirely on his side, and with strong arms, pulled him closer, forcing him to lay the same way. As if it were nothing, he lightly settled his right hind leg over Blues’ haunch, his firm belly to the mustang’s back.

Despite how alarmingly intimate this gesture was, the boy relaxed under the warmth. He hadn’t been this close to another centaur since the last time he snuggled with his siblings.

“Shh, don’t fuss, Mustang.” Shadow whickered tenderly as he began to run the thick bristle brush over his coat. The word ‘mustang’ no longer had bitter connotations on his tongue. “You have such a lovely sheen to your fur...Here, help yourself to that alfalfa. That should settle your stomach for the while.”

Blues found himself leaning in closer, his hide shivering pleasantly as the brush strokes scritched any itches and smoothed out his coat. Soon, the brushing slowed, and Shadow carefully wrapped an arm around his waist, his torso propped up by an elbow on a thick cushion.

“I’ll comb out your mane, too.” He murmured, slender hand massaging the bay’s side, feeling how wiry muscles stretched across prominent bones. He definitely needed some extra weight on him. The friesian frowned, knowing the boy would not want to stick around longer than he had to.

...Unless…

An idea struck him as he ran his fingers through the colt’s hair to loosen it up, rubbing the scalp idly as he thought.

Would he want to stay somewhere else…? That was not a stable…?

Blues was in heaven. The alfalfa was fabulously rich and melted in his mouth, all the while helping with the queasiness in his gut. And now, he was all snuggled up to a giant space heater and having his hair played with. Slowly, he yawned a bit, and lay his torso down on Shadow’s forearms, head to his breast, drooling a bit at the wonderful sensations. His ears drooped dramatically, and twitched every so often.

“Blues...I once told you I was not originally from a stable either.” The stallion began, carefully brushing out the boy’s messy auburn locks, “I know this place is dangerous to you, but you’ve more than proven your worth to me from your decision this morning.”

The bay hummed lazily, eyelids fluttering.

“I want to keep you. For myself, that is.” Shadow’s cheeks suddenly grew rosy, and he blew hotly, flustered.

Blues gurgled, half asleep.

“But if you remained here...you would either have to become a gelding at my stable, or lead stallion of another. Chances favor you becoming a gelding.” The brushing stopped as Shadow’s voice fell. “And I don’t want that to happen to you. But if what I’m thinking of...if it will work, we will have to wait a little while longer.” He set aside the brush to run his fingers through the bay’s fluffy hair.

Blues merely hummed weakly, his body already curled up like a foal's.

“We can run away, together. I know if I stay here, I’ll only grow fat on greed and pride. I want to have a heart that calls me to do justice, as yours calls you to do what’s right.” His voice was low, barely more than a whisper.

Shadow noticed how tired the bay was, and sighed. Quietly, he eased himself down into the cushions, and pulled the boy to him to cuddle with. He buried his nose in the top of his mane, and inhaled. Such an invigorating scent, though dulled by the shampoos from earlier. The friesian snorted, feeling his body heat up at the influence.

Frustrated, he settled for cuddling close, hips shifting out of habit, before he grew sleepy himself.

He’d have to speak to Metaru about this. But would he think the temple was…?

A hushed huff, and Shadow closed his eyes. This mustang was a sign. He wasn’t about to pass it by.

They’d remain for about a week longer, if that. Fatten the boy up, and talk to Bass. The shire should come too. This life was draining him of his will and ambitions.

Shadow held Blues tight, ears pricking as the wind began to howl. He listened to the snowstorm until consciousness slipped away.


End file.
